


Behind Trinity Lines

by BrittanyTheScrivener



Category: Tomb Raider & Related Fandoms, Tomb Raider (Video Games)
Genre: During Rise of the Tomb Raider, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Romance, F/M, For Me, Friends to Lovers, It’s Complicated, Pre-Shadow of the Tomb Raider, Romance, Shadow of the Tomb Raider, Slow Burn, post-Rise of the Tomb Raider, rise of the tomb raider, sloth burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2019-11-01 22:24:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17875967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrittanyTheScrivener/pseuds/BrittanyTheScrivener
Summary: A reimagining of Rise of the Tomb Raider and Shadow of the Tomb Raider and all the events in between. Konstantin and Lara are struggling to figure out their new relationship. Commander Rourke’s duties as the leader of Trinity’s military forces are complicated by Croft and a woman with deep ties to his past. All four are thrown together in a race to remake the world.





	1. Death of a Warrior

**Author's Note:**

> I've been writing this for a couple years now but never finished it or had the nerve to post any of it. 
> 
> Special thanks to SpiritWolf00 for posting a magnificent Lara/Konstantin story (Fireflies) to get the ball rolling again. Credit goes to SpiritWolf00 for the Lara/Konstantin bear cave reference. This story follows Chapter 1 of her story.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Konstantin fears he will fail in his mission to find the Divine Source and save his sister. He reveals an earth-shattering secret to a trusted friend.

**2015**

Konstantin pulled the collar of his black leather coat up around his neck and trudged through the deep snow toward the prison looming ahead of him. To his left, he glimpsed a glimmer of color against the weathered gray wood of the buildings. It was a derelict chapel with bright green stained glass windows and a leaning steeple.

Konstantin altered his course and made his way to the ramshackle building. He pushed his way through the door and slammed it shut behind him. The air inside was stale and dusty, but at least the structure provided some shelter from the bitter cold wind howling outside. The chapel looked as though it had been hastily abandoned with pews askew and the pulpit knocked down onto its side. Konstantin righted the rickety wooden pulpit and walked around the structure, his boots loud and heavy on the creaky wooden floor.

He paused near the window and basked for a moment in the sunlight beaming in through the colorful glass. He took a deep breath and said a silent prayer.

His radio crackled to life.

_“We’ve been overrun by the natives. Croft is with them. Men are dead and scattered.”_

He couldn’t believe it. Croft again. Konstantin bellowed in anger as he hurled the pulpit across the room.

“We should have killed her,” he said through gritted teeth.

Ana was seated at the rear of the chapel. She stood abruptly and said, “You have nothing to show for your efforts. Perhaps she’ll succeed where you’re failing.”

Konstantin spun around to face his sister. “I _will not_ fail.”

Ana approached him in earnest. “Trinity will step in if you do, and you know what that means? I’m expendable. They have no interest in my survival. I need the power of the Source!”

Konstantin’s anger softened. He put his hands on Ana’s frail shoulders. “And you _will_ have it. Don’t lose faith, Ana. This is God’s will. Our success is inevitable.”

“Please, just find it. My time is running out.” She pulled from his grasp and left without another word.

Konstantin clenched his eyes shut and turned back to face the candlelit altar. He folded his hands in prayer and sunk to his knees.

“I’ve come so far. I’ve endured so much,” he prayed. “These final barriers you have set before me, these sins you have forced me to commit . . . they must have had a purpose.” He paused, clenching his hands tightly. “Only you can show me the way. Grant me strength to continue, for her. For you, for Trinity. Please . . . show me the way.”

He opened his eyes when he realized his hands were wet. He opened his hands to find that his stigmata were dripping with his blood.

 _“Then blood it shall be . . .”_ Konstantin muttered darkly.

*                    *                    * 

His palms still dripping with blood, Konstantin trudged through the snow to another large, nondescript wooden shack not far from the chapel. He kicked open the door and found utter chaos inside. The air was rife with the smell of blood and burned flesh, and what few medics he had were running frantically between beds as more and more of the wounded were being brought in.

“I need to see Dr. Wilkens!” Konstantin shouted to anyone who was listening.

He spotted the petite brunette at the far corner of the infirmary and shoved his way through the pandemonium toward her.

“Jo!” he shouted.

She whirled around at the sound of his voice and spotted him immediately.  She made her way toward him, and he opened his bloody hands.

“Charlie, you’re in charge here!” she shouted across the room. She pulled Konstantin toward the rear of the building into a secluded examination room.

“Sit down on the cot,” she said. She moved a small stool in front of him and took one of his hands into her own.

“The bleeding won’t stop,” Konstantin said gruffly.

“If you’d let me fix these wounds years ago, they wouldn’t still be doing this,” she scolded softly.

Jo pulled rubber gloves onto her hands and grabbed a medkit from the shelf behind them.  She cleaned his wound and wrapped one of his hands in gauze.

“What’s going on out there? I don’t think we are prepared for this many casualties, Konstantin.”

Her question was met with silence. Konstantin did nothing but stare at his palm as a bright red circle of blood began to soak through the gauze.

“K?” Joanna asked again.

He met her eyes and sighed loudly. “We are losing our edge. We have hundreds of boots on the ground, the best weapons and equipment, yet we are losing ground to these savages. And Croft—don’t get me started on Croft.”

Joanna moved her stool closer to Konstantin so that she was sitting between his knees. She wrapped a bandage tightly around his right hand and started working on his left.

“I am failing,” Konstantin said after several moments of silence.

Joanna stopped working and grasped his hand between both of hers. “You are not failing. You’ve said it yourself, this path is not meant to be easy.”

“Ana is fading fast,” Konstantin begged. “Isn’t there something, _anything_ , that you can do for her to buy us some more time?”

Joanna frowned. “At this stage in her disease, there is nothing more that can be done. And especially not out here. I’m not equipped.”

“What if we don’t find it in time?” he muttered.

“You will,” Joanna reassured. “I have faith in you. You are a strong and capable leader. You will succeed.”

He was hardly convinced.

“Konstantin,” Jo said, pulling her stool back and snapping the gloves off her hands, “Do you think that when you find the Source Rourke is just going to let you use it however you wish?”

As far as Konstantin was concerned, pretty boy Rourke could go straight back where he came from. He didn’t appreciate Trinity bringing in that arrogant little prick to run things. Rourke had been nothing but a thorn in his side since the day they met, always calling for status updates and making not-so-subtle threats. He marched into base camp like he owned the place, giving orders as if he’d been the one in charge from the beginning.

“Don’t worry about your little boyfriend. Once I have the Source it won’t matter what he—or Trinity—wants.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“I’ve seen the way he _leers_ at you,” he said, clenching his jaw.

“Are you jealous, Konstantin? You can’t handle a little flirting?” Jo asked with a small smile. “Take your coat off.”

Konstantin obeyed but not without casting her a doubtful glance.  He flinched when he felt her fingers pulling at the fabric of his black nylon shirt.

“What are you doing?” he growled.

“The best thing that you can do for your sister right now is have a clear mind. You are wound tighter than an eight-day clock,” Joanna said.

He felt her hands on his bare shoulders, her thumbs working into his stiff muscles. He closed his eyes and tried to relax. His mind was racing with thoughts of her. Of _Croft_. He’d been haunted by sinful fantasies since they met for the first time in Syria. Every time he was in her presence, he could feel the tension between them. He wanted to hate her. He _needed_ to hate her. She was driving him mad.

Joanna sat back down on the stool in front of him and met his eyes, holding his gaze. The loyalty of this woman never ceased to amaze him. She had stood by him through this whole quest. She was there for him when his marriage fell apart. She was there when Ana was diagnosed with lung cancer. She had dug bullets out of him. She had seen him at his most vulnerable. She was _always_ there. She had never lost faith in him, even when he lost faith in himself. She had loved him unconditionally. She didn’t deserve to be betrayed.

“I did something stupid,” Konstantin blurted.

Joanna raised her eyebrows. “What did you do?”

“Croft. I—I slept with _Croft_ ,” he said. He couldn’t believe those words just passed through his lips.  Why had he been so damn stupid?  

Joanna’s mouth dropped open. “How in the wide world of fuck did something like that happen?”

Konstantin passed a bandaged hand over his hair and said, “It just happened.”

Joanna’s lips fell into a frown. “ _It just happened?_ ”

Konstantin struggled with his words. “I don’t know how—or why—it just did.”

“So like you were just walking along, doing Commander things, and suddenly—surprise—you _put your dick in her_?” Joanna spat. Her eyes were wide and wild.

Konstantin lowered his head. “She saved my life. After the bear attack. What I did was wrong . . . but it doesn’t change the fact that I _liked_ it. I like _her_.”  He couldn't believe he had just uttered those words.  He  _did_ like her.  

Joanna choked back a sob. “You know you’ll be shot if anyone finds out about this, right?”

“That’s why you’re going to keep your mouth shut,” he threatened.

“You have just thrown everything down the drain,” Joanna said in a low voice. “And for what? A backwoods booty call with Trinity’s fucking public enemy number one?”

“Joanna, please.”

“You should go,” Joanna said after a few moments of strained silence. “My people need me in there.”

Konstantin opened his mouth to speak, but she shut him down.

“I said go.”

She left the room without another word.

* * *

  **One day later...**

Konstantin flew over the Chamber of Souls, pummeling the ruins with missile after missile. The chopper rocked as another fireball exploded in the air.

Konstantin roared in anger. “If there’s anybody left alive down there, I want her dead! That is your last order!”

His rage was like he had never experienced. He was seething with anger, his chest heaving and his face burning hot.

“Konstantin, you’ve got to land. Now. We’re on fire!” Jo cried.

Konstantin silenced her with a violent backhand and said, “No! This is my destiny!”

Jo touched her stinging cheek and said nothing. She unbuckled her seat belt and said, “Let me off, or I'm gonna jump off.”

“Not a chance,” he said.

“Let me off this fucking chopper _now_ before you kill us both, Konstantin!” Jo screamed.

The chopper rocked again, and they started to spin out of control. Konstantin silently prayed as the craft began to free fall toward the Chamber of Souls below. The chopper slammed down through the roof of the ruins, and Jo was thrown violently against the dash panel. He stretched out his arm to grab her, locking his gloved hand around her wrist just as they crashed through another level. The sheer force of the impact ripped Jo away from him, and he watched in horror as she flew through the windshield, shattering it. Seconds later, with a deafening boom, the chopper hit bottom.

*                    *                    *

Konstantin couldn’t move. His ears were ringing, and his vision was blurry. Everything around him was searing hot. The craft was on fire. He had to get out, but his legs were leaden. He fumbled with the buckle on his seatbelt and managed to pry it loose. He swung his legs around and crawled from the twisted wreckage of the craft. He was horror-stricken when he saw the windshield had been reduced to shards. What was left of it was dripping with bright red blood.

“No, please, no,” Konstantin prayed. He crawled from the wreckage and managed to pull himself to his feet. He slowly walked in front of the burning chopper and squinted his eyes against the hot, bright flames all around him. The crash had completely destroyed the structure, and rubble lay everywhere.

Konstantin returned to the cockpit and retrieved an SMG. He clicked on the flashlight and washed the light all around, desperately searching for Jo.  Just a few yards from the wreckage, he saw her.

She was crumpled on the hard stone only feet from him. Her dark hair was matted with blood. Her left arm was very clearly broken.  Konstantin dropped to his knees beside her and rolled her onto her back. He pulled her hair back out of her face.

“NO!” he shouted. He pulled off his gloves and clutched her face in his hands. Her beautiful skin had been shredded by the glass. “Not you,” he begged. “Jo?” he said. He gently shook her shoulders, but she did not respond.

“Say something, goddammit!” he cried. He pressed his fingertips to her neck to check for a pulse. He brought his cheek to her lips to see if she was breathing.  “NO!” he shouted again. “Please, God, why her?”

She was dead. His best friend was dead. Lifeless. Because of him. His brain replayed the last moments he’d shared with her. He’d betrayed her. He’d hit her. Goddammit, why was he so stupid?

He realized then that the pursuit of the Divine Source had completely overtaken him. He didn’t recognize the person he’d become. He’d committed many sinful acts in God’s name in the pursuit of this artifact, and he felt sick. He felt tears, anger, and bile boiling up in his throat.

With tears streaming down his soot-covered face, Konstantin dug a rag from his pocket and began wiping the blood from Joanna's torn face. He smoothed her hair and moved her arms to her sides. He stared at her as the ruins burned around him.

Konstantin clenched his eyes shut and folded his hands.   _“Please . . . only you can show me the way. Grant me strength to continue. Please . . . show me the way. One last time.”_

When Konstantin opened his eyes, he realized that maybe not all was lost.  Croft was heading straight toward him, and she was totally unaware of his presence.

*                    *                    *

Jo woke with a gasp. She could smell nothing but smoke and tasted blood as she stared up at the sky above.  The last thing she could remember was the chopper taking a hit, and she had no recollection of how she ended up where she was.  Wincing with pain she examined her left arm. “Fuck,” she muttered. She held it close to her side and willed herself to sit up. She could hear voices somewhere in the distance and watched from afar as Lara prepared to swing her axe at Konstantin’s back.

Lara struck him, and he fell to one knee with an angry cry of pain. He struggled to get to his feet and swung his rifle toward her.

Lara pulled out her knife and drew back her arm. She drove the knife into his chest, butting the heel of her hand against the hilt to drive it in even farther.

Stunned, he dropped to his knees and fell to the ground, resting his weight on one arm.

“This…this was not my destiny,” he said slowly. “I was meant for greatness.”

“This was never your destiny,” Lara said, getting down on one knee beside him. “Your sister let you believe that.”

“I did all...all of this...for her,” he muttered.

An explosion at the entrance of the chamber startled Lara, and she stood up again, knowing it was only a matter of time before the fire engulfed the whole place.

“Don’t you walk away from me!” Konstantin shouted. He was now sitting up again. “Wait! Trinity killed your father!”

“No, you’re lying!”

“He begged for his life. He begged for yours.”

“You’re wrong! Shut up, just shut up!”

“He was a pathetic man. I pitied him. I like to think his last thoughts were of you, _Lara_. Of how he drove you away. Of how he failed you. He would have held you back. You should be thanking me. It’s in your blood, Lara. You’re a coward, just like your father. You don’t have it in you to make the hard choices.”

Lara shook her head in disgust and said, “You’re not worth it.”

Once Lara was out of sight, Jo slowly walked toward Konstantin. He was laying on his side among the wrecked ruins of the chamber, clutching his chest and struggling to breath.  Jo knelt down beside him.

“You're...alive,” Konstantin said, beginning to cough. “Go, get out of here before it’s too late.”

Tears were streaming down Jo’s cheek as she shook her head. “I can’t. I’ve got to get you out of here.”

“No,” Konstantin said firmly. “Go! I have failed...everything.”

Jo grabbed Konstantin’s knife and cut open his kevlar vest. She unzipped the leather jacket underneath and saw the bloody wound through his shirt underneath. She pulled off her own jacket and laid it over his chest.

Konstantin shook his head. “Go while you still can. God can’t even save me now.”

“God isn’t going to save you, but I am,” Jo muttered. She got to her feet and grabbed his arm to pull him up. He got to his feet with a groan of pain and slowly walked toward her.

“Here,” she said, pulling his arm up around her shoulders.

She managed to walk him to the crumbling steps leading out of the Chamber of Souls, and they found themselves face-to-face with what appeared to be an armor-clad soldier. He stopped suddenly and shouted something in a foreign language.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Wilkens muttered.

The words no more than left her lips when the soldier raised his bow toward them and began firing arrows lit with bright blue flames.

Wilkens wrenched Konstantin’s pistol from the holster at his hip and began firing on the soldier, and the sound of bullets peppering the metal armor echoed all around them.

“Get back!” she shouted at Konstantin. She grabbed a rusted piece of metal from nearby and swung it at the soldier, knocking the helmet from his head.

It flew off with a clang, and Jo let out a piercing scream. The face beneath the helmet was covered with metal chainmail, but the eyes were like nothing she’d ever seen before. This soldier was not human—it was something _else_. The stunned soldier raised his bow in Jo’s face, and just as he drew his arm back, a spray of bullets obliterated his head.

Jo looked up to see Lara standing at the top of the stairs with a rifle. She blinked, and Lara was gone. 

*                    *                    *

“What a fucking mess,” Commander Rourke muttered as he looked down at the smoldering ruins of Kitezh.

“Think there’s anybody alive down there?” the pilot shouted.

“Doubt it. Put us down in the courtyard over there, and we’ll do a sweep,” the younger man ordered.

“Yes, sir.”

As the chopper began its descent to the ground, the smell of charred flesh burned Rourke’s nose. The smell was unmistakable, and it instantly flooded him with memories of his time in Iraq.

Rourke turned to the small group of men seated in the rear of the chopper. “Gentlemen, fan out and sweep the area. Bring any survivors back, leave the rest behind.”

Rourke was the last to step out of the chopper. The team had their work cut out for them, that was certain. The city lay in ruins, and there were hundreds of men yet to be accounted for.

“Commander, over here!  It’s Konstantin,” Rourke's second-in-command Winters muttered. “Or what’s left of him.”

“Shit.” Rourke scanned the area and noticed the body of another person sitting up against a piece of rubble not far from the body. He was entirely covered in blood.

“What do you want us to do with him?”

“Bring him back,” Rourke ordered. He knelt down beside the second body and fell back when his eyes opened.

“We got a live one!” he shouted. He reached his hand out and said, “Are you injured?” _Well, isn’t that obvious, dumbass_ , he thought to himself.

“I did what I could, but it wasn’t enough,” a small voice croaked.

Rourke realized that it was a woman sitting in front of him, the team’s medic.

“Wilkens?” he asked.

She nodded.

“Are there any more survivors?” he asked hopefully.

“There’s a handful of them with minor injuries. I moved them near the entrance to the City.” The Doctor’s glance fell onto Konstantin.

“I—I did everything I could for him,” she said, her voice breaking. “I had no supplies, nothing to stop his bleeding. He doesn’t have long.”

Rourke grasped her arm and said, “We’ll take it from here. Come with me.”

He pulled her to her feet and walked with her toward the chopper.

 

Wilkens watched as the ruins disappeared beneath them. She sat back in her seat and stared straight ahead of her. Konstantin was laying on a stretcher at her feet with an oxygen mask over his face, watching her. She got comfortable and let her head drop onto Rourke’s shoulder.

“Rourke?”

“Yeah?”

“I quit.”

Rourke let out a chuckle. “We'll see about that, Wilkens.”

 


	2. The A-Team

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One year after Siberia, Konstantin faces a moral dilemma. Jo struggles with the physical toll of the botched mission in Siberia until Rourke lures her back in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some sources say that Shadow takes place just a few months after the end Rise. The timeline in this story sets the events of the games apart by approximately 1 year.

**2016**

_Guildford, Surrey, England_

 

Konstantin lay in bed, the cool cotton sheets tangled around his naked body. His chest was heaving, and his skin was covered with a thin dew of perspiration. She was laying on his chest, the weight of her grounding him. Nothing mattered outside of that bedroom at that very moment. Nothing but the two of them.

The idea of having a partner again after so long was new for him. It was hard to get used to another person’s quirks and eccentricities, but he found that having someone to come home to again was comforting. The mere fact that there was another person who needed him and _wanted him_ warmed his heart like he never imagined could be possible again.

Konstantin gently traced his fingertips down her spine, his hand coming to rest on the small of her back. A year ago, he never would have imagined that he and this woman would be drawn together, but he was glad they were.

Lara lifted her head abruptly and said, “We need to talk.” She rolled onto her side and pulled the sheet up to cover herself.

“What is it?”

“I’m going to Mexico,” she said.

Konstantin could see the excitement in her face. She started to say something, but his cell phone rang loudly, startling them both. He reached over to the bedside table and picked up his phone—it was Ana. He ignored the call.  “What’s in Mexico?”

“Shouldn’t you take that?” Lara asked.

“Go on. What’s in Mexico?”

“We’ve been tracking another Trinity cell,” she said with a grin. “They have several ongoing digs in Cozumel, led by someone named Dominguez. I’ve seen his name in my father’s journals, but I haven’t found much information about him yet.”

Konstantin frowned. “Who is _we_? You and Jonah?”

“Yes, of course.”

“I don’t like the idea of you chasing Trinity,” he said. “When does it stop?”

“You know that I am more than capable of taking care of myself.”

“And you know that they will be more than ready to slaughter you this time.”

Lara sat up in bed and said, “That’s a risk I am prepared to take.”

Konstantin frowned at her. “You are a foolish, _careless_ woman, do you know that?”

Lara grinned. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It wasn’t one,” Konstantin said gruffly. He climbed out of bed and started dressing.

“I handled myself just fine in Siberia, didn’t I?” she said.

Konstantin froze. He zipped his pants and slowly turned to face her. “I thought we agreed we weren’t going to bring up Siberia.”

“ _Shit_ ,” Lara muttered. “I’m sorry.”

Konstantin pulled his shirt on and left the room.

 

It was well after midnight, and Konstantin was still wide awake. He was set to be on a plane to Cozumel in less than twenty-four hours, and he couldn’t shut his mind down long enough to fall asleep. He was struggling with a moral crisis and had nowhere to turn to for advice. As he walked outside for a moonlit stroll through the gardens, he found himself longing to sit down and talk to the one person he knew would be able to tell him what to do.

Jo had always been his moral compass. He could talk to her about anything, and she always seemed to have the right answers. The truth was, he missed her dearly. He hadn’t seen or spoken to her since she’d saved his life in that frozen hell. He’d been trying to locate her for months, but she was refusing to take his calls and even Rourke wouldn’t tell him where she’d been assigned. He didn’t even know that she was _okay_ after everything that had happened.

What Lara didn’t know was that he too was traveling to Mexico. Konstantin didn’t know how to tell her, and there was no way in hell that he could let Trinity find out that he and Lara were together. He was quite anxious about his new assignment—his first after Siberia—and he was eager to prove to Rourke and the High Council that he wasn’t a complete failure. He was thankful he was even given the chance to redeem himself; most people who screwed up badly enough to require a disciplinary hearing in front of the Council were quietly disposed of and never heard from again. He supposed his many years of faithful service, or at least Ana’s favorable reputation, had been in his favor.

 _Shit, Ana_ , he thought to himself. He’d left his cell phone upstairs in the bedroom. He trudged back into the house and started up the stairs when he heard Lara’s voice coming from the library. He quietly moved to the door, stopping to listen.

 _“Jonah, I have everything arranged. We leave for Mexico first thing in the morning,”_ Lara said.

Konstantin clenched his jaw. He knew that she was a headstrong, stubborn woman, but she was still blatantly ignoring his opinions on the matter.

 _“Of course I can trust him,”_ Lara said. _“Jonah—.”_

Konstantin clenched his fists and pried himself from the doorway, moving down the hall toward the bedroom once more. He grabbed his phone, which lay on the bed unlocked.

 _She’s been looking at my phone,_ he thought. _Must not be as trusting as she lets on._

He had a new text from Ana. _Come to the hospital right away._

_*                    *                    *_

_Providence, Rhode Island_

 

The sterile, pastel halls of Griffith General Hospital were vacant as Dr. Joanna Wilkens hurried toward her office. It was late, and she had only just left the O.R. after a particularly long and gruesome night. She was tired; _no_ , she was mentally and emotionally _drained_ and just ready to be home.

As she unlocked the door to her office, she looked up and saw her own reflection in the windowpane. She looked like the ghost of herself with dark circles beneath her eyes and gaunt cheeks. She longed for the days when she could feel happy and beautiful in her own skin.

Jo opened the door to the office and made her way to the closet to retrieve her coat and purse. She was digging her car keys out of her purse when a loud, rough voice filled the silence.

“ _Hello, Dr. Wilkens._ ”

“Holy shit!” she shouted, dropping her purse to the floor. She spun around, searching for the light switch. She clicked on the lights and saw a familiar man sitting in the chair behind her desk.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Commander James Rourke stretched his long legs out in front of him and leaned back in Jo’s desk chair. He looked attractive in dark jeans, a black tee, and a black leather motorcycle jacket. She thought to herself how odd it was to see people outside of work in their “everyday” clothes. It was silly to think that he would wear a Trinity uniform every day, but there were probably people who would be surprised to see _her_ in something other than blue surgical scrubs since she seemed to be living in them so much lately.

“Maybe next time try coming during office hours instead of lurking in my office like a serial killer. What do you want, Rourke?” she said with annoyance.

“I’m fine. How are you?” he asked with a wry smile. “You haven’t been returning calls. It’s like you fell off the grid.”

“That was my plan.”

“How’s Konstantin?” Rourke asked, the same smug expression still on his face.

“I wouldn’t know,” Jo said sharply. “Is there a point to this little reunion, or did you just miss me? I haven’t slept in thirty-six hours. I’m not exactly in the mood for social hour.”

“We want you back,” he said immediately.

“Well, you can forget it,” Jo said. “I thought I had made that pretty clear when I told you _I quit_.” She picked her purse up off the floor and pulled it onto her shoulder.  “Good night, Rourke.”

She had scarcely made it back to the door again when he stood and said, “Neither one of us is leaving this office until you agree to come back.”

“Are you threatening me?” Jo asked. “That sounded like a threat to me.”

“I’m here to negotiate,” Rourke said, sitting down on the edge of her desk. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and said, “What’s it going to take?”

Jo laughed out loud. “More than you’re willing to give.”

“What’s your salary?”

Jo scoffed. “This isn’t about money!”

“We’ll give you $400K,” Rourke said.

“I don’t think you understand. It has taken _months_ of physical therapy to get me back in the O.R. I was so close to never being able to perform surgery again. My life has been turned completely upside down—.”

“You can choose your assignments,” Rourke interrupted.

Jo sighed. “I appreciate the lengths you’re going to to try and get me back. I do. I just can’t. I’m sorry.”

“We can provide you a low stress environment,” Rourke said.

Jo laughed out loud. “As tempting as that is, I must respectfully refuse.”

Rourke stood up and said, “Well, then, I guess I should be going.” He moved to the door and handed her an envelope. “But you might want to look at this before it gets sent to the hospital administrators tomorrow morning.”

Jo snatched the envelope from Rourke’s hand and ripped it open. Inside was a photograph of a brunette woman in powder blue scrubs straddling an unconscious patient in the operating room.

“What the actual fuck is this?” she demanded.  She shoved the picture back into his hands.

“A trauma fellow _hard_ at work.”

“This isn’t me!”

“I can see the resemblance, though.”

“You son of a bitch. You’re blackmailing me?” Jo cried.  "You think this is how you're going to get me to come back?"

Rourke shrugged. “I’m _motivating_ you. I told you I wasn’t leaving this office until you agreed to come back.”

“I never agreed to anything,” Jo said through gritted teeth.

“Then you may be in need of a job come morning. Of course, you’ll have to find a completely new career because you won’t be allowed to practice medicine anymore once that photo gets out.”

Jo stared at Rourke contemptuously. “You _double_ my salary, full benefits, pension, the works. I want a _fully_ -stocked infirmary. And I want a fucking Tempurpedic mattress in my quarters.”

Rourke smirked again. “Anything else?”

“Goodnight, Rourke.”

Jo turned to leave the office.

 _“We leave for Mexico at 1700 hours, Wilkens,”_ he called after her.

Jo proceeded through the door, raising her hand and giving him the finger on the way out.

 

Jo exited the hospital and stepped outside on that crisp autumn night, taking a deep breath and filling her lungs with the cold air. It was refreshing to be out of that fluorescent prison after so many hours on the clock. As she walked down the street toward her car, the flashing red and green neon lights of the corner bar, The Ale House, beckoned her to turn around and walk the other way. She decided she was better off sharing drinks with friends than going home alone with nothing but her mind to occupy her. The sad thing was she knew that a shot of tequila was already sitting at her spot at the bar.

When she walked through the heavy wooden door, she was met with the familiar smells of over-fried foods and cigarette smoke.  The Ale House was a dive, but it was  _her_ dive.  She'd frequented that bar since she was old enough to buy her first drink and reckoned she could be a partial owner with the amount of money she'd spent there during her college years at Brown.

“Hey, Sammy,” she said as she climbed up onto a stool at the worn wooden bar.

The bartender slid a shot of tequila to her and rested his elbows on the bar.  “Rough night?”

“Story of my life,” she said. She drank the shot of tequila and slid the glass back.

The doorbell rang shortly after, announcing the arrival of another customer.  

“Hey, hey, hey!” Sammy shouted. “Look who it is! Jamie Rourke, long time no see! How the hell are ya, guy?”

“Never been better,” Rourke said, sitting down at the bar beside Jo. “Wild Turkey neat.”

Sammy returned with Rourke’s drink and another shot and said, “Looky here, it’s the Dream Team all grown up. I can remember how the two of ya used to run around tearing up Blackstone before you were this high.”

Jo smiled. She thought back to thirty years ago when things were so much simpler. Growing up, Jo was different than most girls. She was a tomboy, and her best friend was the shaggy-haired, brown-eyed, freckle-faced boy who lived next door. The only thing she ever had to worry about was meeting her best friend in the backyard to play Army.

“ _A smile from the ice queen?_ ”

Jo realized that Rourke had been watching her during her little reverie into the past.

“I was just thinking.”

“About what?”

Jo stared into the glass in her hands. “Do you remember how innocent everything was when we were kids? Sometimes I wish I could go back in time and just stay there forever. I thought that people were good, that happily-ever-afters really existed.” Jo choked back tears. “And all I wanted to do was grow up. Now look at me. I’m all grown up, and I’ve seen just how very wrong about the world I was. People are evil, and there is no such thing as a happily-ever-after.”

Her hands shaking, Jo tossed back the shot of tequila.  “It’s been a year since Siberia, and I am still so _fucked_ _up_ that I can’t even close my eyes without seeing it all again.”

“That why you’ve been refusing my calls?” Rourke asked.

She ignored his question and said, “I just don’t know if I can go back, Jamie. Why is Trinity willing to go to such lengths to get me back? Doubling my salary is just ridiculous.”

“Dominguez told me to do whatever I had to do. I think it’s his way of compensating you for everything you did after the shitshow at Kitezh. He thinks a lot of you.”

“Are you sure it’s all Dominguez?” she asked, turning to face him.  She met his brown eyes and held his gaze for several moments.

Jo’s phone buzzed loudly on the bar beside her. She glanced at it briefly and realized it was a text from Konstantin. _We need to talk._

Rourke saw it too. He looked up at her and said, “I thought you hadn’t spoken to him?”

“I haven’t,” she said, clearing the notification and ignoring the message. She had no intention to reply to it. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

Rourke drank from his glass and said, “So what’s the story there?”

“Keep ‘em coming, Sammy,” Jo said to the bartender as she downed another shot. “We were close friends, that’s all.”

“You weren’t fucking?” Rourke asked bluntly.

Jo choked on the tequila and began coughing violently. Her face red and eyes watering, she shook her head. “No.”

Rourke looked amused by her little outburst.

“Is that so hard to believe?”

He shrugged. “There was a lot of talk about the two of you. And he always gets this crazy ass look in his eye anytime I come around.”

“Maybe because you are always shamelessly flirting with me,” Jo muttered.

“Nothing wrong with a little flirting,” Rourke said.

 "Another!" Jo called to the bartender.

“I think you’ve had enough,” Rourke said as Jo reached for her fourth ( _or fifth?_ ) shot. He moved the glass out of her reach. “Remember your guidelines: one tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor.”

Jo laughed loudly. “I can hold my liquor _way_ better than I used to.”

“Let’s not test that theory,” Rourke said. He tossed some money onto the bar to pay their tab and helped Jo down off her stool.

 

Once outside, Jo unsteadily turned to Rourke and said, “What now?”

“What do you want to happen now?” he asked, putting his hands in his pockets.

“Drunk Jo would invite you back to her place,” she said. “But Responsible Jo realizes that she has been awake for almost forty hours and needs to get some sleep.”

“Does Jo always talk about herself in the third person?” Rourke asked with his signature crooked smile.

Jo cackled loudly. “Drunk Jo does.”

“At least let me drive you home,” he said. “You don’t seem to be in any condition to drive.”

“Okay,” she said.  They walked slowly to the black Jeep Wrangler Unlimited parked at the curb.  "I live over on Elmgrove."

"I know."

"That's just creepy, Rourke," Jo said as she climbed into the Jeep.

"Why?"

"That you just  _know_ where I live."

"You live literally twenty fucking feet from where you grew up," Rourke said, rubbing his forehead.  He pulled away from the curb and headed south toward Elmgrove.  

A few minutes later, Rourke parked along the street in front of Jo’s house.

Jo leaned across the console and said, “Before I go, can I touch it?”

Rourke narrowed his eyes and cast her a sidelong glance. “Touch what?”

"Your beard," Jo said. "It looks so soft. It looks good on you."

Rourke rolled his eyes and laughed out loud. “You are so annoying when you're drunk."

Jo scoffed and said, "Drinking is my coping mechanism."

"And what are you coping with?"

"With you being a dick. What the hell did you think I was asking to touch?" she asked loudly.

Rourke stifled another laugh.  "Never mind.  Go to bed, Wilkens."

Jo kissed Rourke on the cheek and said, “I’ll see you at 1700 hours, Commander.”

_*                    *                    *_

Konstantin stood on the sidewalk in front of the Royal Marsden Hospital and stared up at the brick and glass facade. After Ana had told him to come to the hospital right away, he was running every possible scenario through his head, wondering just what was so urgent. He tried to tell himself that it was something mundane. _She wanted him to bring more clothes. She wanted Chinese take-out. She was lonely and needed company._ A feeling of dread weighed heavily in the pit of his stomach as he entered the building.

He walked quickly down the halls, searching for the ward she had been admitted into. When he finally found the room, he found her resting peacefully in bed. There were IVs in both of her arms and a cannula in her nose. He hadn’t seen her in a couple weeks and was shocked at how much her appearance had changed in such little time.

Her blonde hair had thinned considerably, and her face was gaunt and colorless. Her eyes were sunken and red-rimmed. She was breathing irregularly. Konstantin sat down beside her and reached for her hand; she stirred slightly and opened her eyes slowly.

“Ana,” Konstantin said, “I got here as fast as I could.”

Ana forced a smile and said, “I knew you would.” Her voice was faint and hoarse.

“What are the doctors saying?” Konstantin said hopefully. He had tried telling himself that perhaps there was some miracle, some act of God, that had resulted in a complete turn-around.

“Brother,” Ana croaked, “they told me it is time to say my goodbyes.”

“No!” Konstantin cried. “They’ve been wrong before. They’ll be wrong again.”

Ana shook her head. “No. I can feel it. I can feel it in my bones. I can feel it in my _soul_. It’s time.”

Konstantin held her hand tightly in his and fought back tears. He’d been preparing himself for this moment since she was diagnosed with late stage lung cancer five years earlier, but he didn’t realize it would hurt this damn bad.

“I’m sorry for everything I have put you through, Konstantin,” Ana said weakly.

Konstantin kept his eyes on the floor, not able to look his dying sister in the face. He couldn’t bear to see Ana look so frail and sick. Since they were children, Konstantin had seen his sister as the strong one; she was always guiding him and giving him hope. It had been just the two of them against the world since their parents died.

“You have to hold on,” Konstantin said. “I have orders to ship out to Mexico tomorrow. I can’t stay long.”

“Mexico?” Ana asked with surprise. “What is Trinity doing in Mexico?”

“Looking for some artifact,” Konstantin said. He moved his eyes to the wall across the room. “That’s all I know. I’ve been assigned to vehicular support. I’m not in a need-to-know position anymore.”

“Who’s in command?”

“Rourke.”

“ _Rourke_?” Ana asked with surprise.

“Yeah,” Konstantin said, running a hand over his hair. “I guess they aren’t messing around this time.”

Ana squeezed his hand for a brief moment and said, “Konstantin, promise me that you won’t let the hand you've been dealt make you a bitter, unhappy man. I want you to be happy. Promise me that you’ll be happy.”

Konstantin scoffed loudly.

“Promise me,” Ana insisted.

Konstantin heaved a sigh. “I promise.”

“Good,” she said. “Now go.”

“I can’t go,” Konstantin said. “I’m not ready yet.”

Ana gently squeezed his hand and said, “But I _am_ ready. I’m ready for all this to go away. All the tubes and needles and drugs. All the pain.”

Konstantin finally allowed himself to look at his sister.

"To the well-organized mind, _death_ is but the next great adventure," Ana said confidently.

"Who said that?" he asked.

Ana laughed softly.  "A famous wizard named Albus Dumbledore."

Konstantin laughed.  He dropped his head into his hands and said, "Now is not the time for Harry Potter humor."

“Go!” Ana ordered gently. “Let me die in peace.”

"I love you, Ana."  Konstantin stood and slowly left the room, knowing full well that could be the very last time he saw his sister alive.

 


	3. Welcome to the Jungle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The parties arrive in Mexico.

_Cozumel, Mexico_

 

It was early afternoon when Lara and Jonah arrived in Cozumel. The sun was shining, and the sky was bright blue with fluffy, white clouds. On the way into the village, Lara couldn’t help but marvel at the stunning scenery. White sandy beaches, turquoise blue waters, and vibrant green foliage surrounded them. Lara promised herself that once her business with Trinity was finally done she would take some time to just relax and enjoy life. She’d never been to Mexico before, but she already found herself quite fond of it.

“Where are we meeting your contact, Jonah?” Lara asked as the taxi came to a halt.

“A little place called _La Casa Mexicana_ ,” Jonah said. “I know the chef there.”

“Didn’t you eat on the plane?” Lara joked.

They exited the taxi, and Jonah led Lara toward a deserted courtyard. Lara immediately saw the darkened neon lights on the building ahead of them. _La Casa Mexicana._

“There it is,” she said. “Let’s go.”

 

They were seated in a corner on the upstairs balcony overlooking the courtyard. They had only just ordered a round of drinks when Lara saw a short, heavily-built man in an apron and a ball cap approaching them.

“ _¡_ _Oye, Jonah!_ ” he called. “ _¿_ _C_ _ó_ _mo est_ _á_ _s?_ ”

Jonah stood and shook the man’s hand. “Lara, this is Hector Riviera.”

Hector joined them at the table, barely acknowledging Lara’s presence. She didn’t mind—she wasn’t exactly a people person anyway.

“You have some info for us?” Jonah asked.

“Dr. Dominguez has been searching for the entrance to a temple here for many years,” Hector said. “I think they are getting close. They have been bringing in more and more reinforcements.”

“Dr. Dominguez is here in Cozumel?” Lara asked. The name was familiar. She’d seen it in her father’s journals; they’d been friends before his death.

“No, I hear he is in Brazil right now. The man has fingers in many pies. The one in charge here is named Rourke. I’ve only seen him a handful of times, but he is a real _pendejo._ ”

“So what is so important about this temple?” Lara asked.

Hector shrugged. “We do not know. Everything is very hush-hush.”

“Can you get us into the digs?” Jonah asked.

“Jonah, my friend, Dr. Dominguez and his men have been a great help to the people of this village, but they are not messing around. You need to be careful," Hector said.  “All I can do is give you the locations." 

“Is there anything else you can tell us?” Lara asked.

“I’ve had eyes on the dig closer to the city. I think that’s where their base camp is. I thought I had the front gate guard’s schedule down to a science, but they stuck a new guy up there today. A big guy with a creepy, scarred up face. Looks like he wants to strangle everyone he looks at.”

Jonah laughed. “Sounds about like Konstantin, doesn’t it, Lara?”

A wave of unease washed over Lara. She didn’t want to admit that the thought had already crossed her mind.

“I should get back to the kitchen,” Hector said. He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and tossed it down onto the table. “I’ve written down the locations of all the dig sites. Good luck, my friends.”

Lara watched Hector leave the table, and she stared down at the bottle of beer a waitress had just placed in front of her.

“Something bothering you?” Jonah asked.

“What if Konstantin _is_ here, Jonah?” Lara asked quietly.

“Don’t you trust him?” Jonah asked.

“I—I don’t know,” Lara muttered. “I _want_ to trust him, but I’m not sure that I can.”

Jonah shrugged. “If he _is_ here, there’s not much we can do about it . . . is there?”

Lara sighed. “I guess not.”

Jonah patted Lara’s shoulder and said, “Then don’t worry about it unless you have reason to. Let’s go back to the hotel and catch some sleep, and we’ll start checking out those dig sites tomorrow.”

“Sounds good,” she said. She pulled her cell phone from her pocket and said, “I’ll be right up.”

Lara unlocked her phone and started composing a message. _K, we made it to Cozumel. Trinity is here in full force._

She sent the message and waited for the delivery notification, but it didn’t appear. Either his phone was off, or he was out of range. Konstantin _always_ had his phone on, so Lara was once again hit with a wave of unease. If he really was there in Cozumel, she would find out sooner or later.

 

*                    *                    *

 

_Trinity Base_

_Mobile, Alabama_

 

Commander Rourke wandered across the airplane hangar with his hands stuffed in his pockets. They were set to leave for Mexico in a matter of minutes, and he was waiting for the rest of the team to board the chopper idling outside.

The night before, for the first time in almost three years, Rourke slept in his _own_ house in his _own_ bed, and it felt damn good. He had never considered himself to be much of a homebody—sometimes he had trouble remembering what _home_ was even like—but he decided that at that point in his life, at thirty-seven years old, putting down roots was sounding better and better.

His patience with Dr. Dominguez was growing thin. Dominguez had sent him on a wild goose chase all over Central and South America since the botched mission to find the Divine Source, and after almost a decade in the Special Forces, he was growing weary with living out of a duffel bag. He was always moving around, living somewhere new with new, unfamiliar people.

Rourke thought of his family back in Providence. He hadn’t seen or spoken to them in nearly ten years. He had long been seen as the black sheep of the picture-perfect Rourke family, but he was virtually disowned and disinherited when he decided to leave the Army to join the ranks of Trinity.

Trinity had changed everything for Rourke. He was respected, even revered, for his accomplishments and was put in a position where he could use his talents and experience accordingly. He didn’t have anyone to impress or satisfy. He was able to create an identity for himself that he was pleased with.

He watched from afar as Jo entered the hangar cautiously. She too was dressed in Trinity’s standard-issue hot weather uniform. Despite the masculine cut of the combat fatigues she wore, she looked incredible. Her shirt was casually unbuttoned, and Rourke could see the tiny gold cross necklace she’d worn for as long as he could remember.

Her saw her face go white the moment she laid eyes on the black utility helicopter nicknamed _Cardinal Two._ He felt bad for a moment; she’d told him over a year ago that she was done with Trinity, and he pulled her back in despite everything that had gone on in Siberia.

When Rourke finally boarded the chopper and gave the order to move out, he sat down in the empty seat beside Jo. As they prepared for take off, he heard her draw in a deep breath as she stared at the seat directly in front of her.

“You okay?” Rourke asked as he buckled himself into his seat. He knew she wasn’t.

Jo shook her head. “The last time I was on one of these birds . . . it was crashing.”

She pulled her duffel into her lap and fished around inside it until she found a bottle of pills. She popped one into her mouth and clenched her eyes shut.

“What are those?” Rourke asked with concern.

“Benzos,” Jo muttered. “How long is this flight?”

“About four hours,” Rourke said.

“Fuck,” she said under her breath. “Jesus Christ, why did I agree to this?” Jo said.

Rourke reached toward her and offered her his hand.

Jo ignored his gesture and said, “I’m fine. I’m perfectly fine.”

She was clearly not fine.

The cabin rocked slightly as the chopper ascended, and Jo drew in a sharp breath. She grabbed Rourke’s still outstretched hand and clenched her eyes shut.

“You’re gonna be fine,” Rourke said.

Jo squeezed his hand tightly and said, “I will be so happy when this thing lands.”

“Jo, look at me,” Rourke said earnestly.

Jo slowly opened her eyes and turned to face him.

“You’re safe,” he reassured. “You’re not alone.”

Jo nodded her head slowly and turned her attention back onto the empty seat across from her.

“Hey,” Rourke said, “do me a favor and don’t throw up in my lap this trip.”

Jo groaned. “I’d almost forgotten about that. Thanks for reminding me.”

Rourke laughed softly. “No problem.”

“So what are we doing in Cozumel?” Jo asked, her voice still trembling.

“Dr. Dominguez is running a few digs on the island.”

“ _Dr. Dominguez?_ ” Jo asked with surprise. “So this must be a pretty big deal for you and him both to be running things.”

Rourke sighed and rubbed his beard with his free hand. “Honestly, Jo? There aren’t many of us left. Croft has been a busy little bitch the past year.”

Rourke felt Jo bristle next to him at the mere mention of her name.

“So is that why you called me, too? Because there was no one else left?”

“No,” Rourke said. “ _I_ wanted you back.”

Jo met his eyes again.

“We used to be so close, and then with the Army and med school, we lost a lot of time.”

Jo gave him a small smile. “I see what you’re saying—in your long, convoluted way of putting it. _I’ve missed you too._ ”

Rourke smiled to himself as Jo turned away from him again.

Jo closed her eyes and finally let herself relax in her seat. “So I hope this assignment is like 95% working on my tan and 5% actually treating patients.”

“I hope so, too,” Rourke said a little uneasily.

He knew that once they arrived in Cozumel Croft wouldn’t be far behind.

 

*                    *                    *

 

_Cozumel, Mexico_

 

Konstantin shielded his eyes from the scorching sun and wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. He was wearing heavy cargo pants and a tactical vest—far too many layers for the current weather in Mexico. He had only just arrived a few hours before, and he already didn’t appreciate being volunteered for watch in an open area during the hottest time of day. He supposed Rourke was punishing him by giving him all the duties no one else wanted to make some sort of an example out of him.

He was starting to get lightheaded from the heat, so he stripped off the vest, tossing it to the ground. Getting shot at that point would’ve been sweet relief from the damn heat. He rolled up his sleeves and wiped his face again. He sighed with irritation as he glanced down at his watch. He only had an hour left until someone else came to relieve him.

Konstantin was scanning the treeline, looking for anything interesting, when he heard footsteps approaching him. He turned to see a tall, very tan, and very well-groomed man in an officer’s uniform. His eyes dropped to the name patch on his chest. _Winters_.

Winters shielded his eyes from the sun and said, “Commander Rourke sent me to tell you that your backup got detained, so you’re going to have to stick it out a few more hours.”

Konstantin clenched his jaw and said, “Yes, sir.”

Winters smirked at him and said, “You got a problem with that, Miller?”

“No problem at all, Winters,” Konstantin said through gritted teeth.

“It’s _Commander_ Winters,” he said smugly. “So I guess you won’t mind pulling a double, then?”

“Even better,” Konstantin said. He tightened his grip on his rifle to keep himself from taking a swing at him.

Winters’ radio crackled. “This is Rourke. Winters, I want _all_ dig sites rigged with explosives. I don’t want _anyone_ getting inside unless they’re supposed to be in there.”

Konstantin’s gut wrenched into a knot. He knew that Lara was probably already in Cozumel, and it was only a matter of time before she found her way into Trinity’s business. He hadn’t yet taken the time to consider what he would do if they crossed paths. He knew he was going to have to figure out where he stood with all of it before they found themselves face to face, or he knew it wouldn’t be pretty.

Konstantin watched Winters walk away and then turned his attention back to the gate.  Just then it rolled open, and he found himself staring straight at her.   _It was Jo_ , staring right back at him, just as surprised as he was.

“Jo!”

Jo wrapped her arms around herself uncomfortably. “Konstantin.”

“How are you?”

“I’m well,” Jo said.

“How long have you been here?” Konstantin asked.

“I just got here a few hours ago,” Jo said.

“I had no idea you’d be here.”

A strained silence fell between them before Jo finally said, “Listen, I’d love to catch up, but I’m late for . . . a _thing_.”

She started to walk away, but Konstantin yelled after her. “You could’ve taken my calls! I’ve been trying to find you for months.”

Jo stopped and slowly turned to face him.

“I had no way of knowing if you were okay,” Konstantin said sternly.

Jo put her hands on her hips and cocked her head. “Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

He braced himself for her worst. “Maybe this isn’t the best time to talk about this.”

“This is the _perfect_ time to talk about it since you brought it up, Konstantin. Where should I start?”

Konstantin stared at her blankly.

“You fucked Trinity’s Most Wanted. You forced me onto that chopper with you. You _hit_ me. You put my life in danger.”

Konstantin frowned. “Jo, you are being overly dramatic about all of this.”

“I almost fucking _died,_ Konstantin!” Jo shouted.

“I never meant to hurt you.”

Jo pointed her finger at him and said, “I was _nothing_ but loyal to you for six years. I was always there for you, and I _never_ asked for anything in return. I _never_ bothered you with my problems. But I guess I was expecting too much to think that you’d show some loyalty to me. I loved you for six years, Konstantin. _For six years._ And you knew. But you didn’t give a shit. So, no, I didn’t take your calls because I thought it would be for the best that we don’t talk anymore.”

“Jo—.”

“ _Everything okay here?_ ”

Konstantin and Jo both turned abruptly to see Rourke standing behind them.

Jo backed away from Konstantin and joined Rourke. “I was just leaving.”

 

Once they were out of earshot, Jo rounded on Rourke.

“So did you _forget_ to mention that he would be here, or did you do it on purpose?” she demanded.

“I don’t know what went down between you two, but it must’ve been some serious shit.”

“Yeah, it was,” Jo said darkly.

“I didn’t tell you because I knew this is how you would react,” Rourke said with annoyance. “I’ll make sure you don’t have to deal with him again.”

“You better,” Jo said. She poked him in the chest and said, “Or I will rip your dick off and shove it so far up your ass that you’ll taste cock for the rest of your life.”

He smirked and said, “So . . . we still drinking tonight?”

Jo rolled her eyes and walked away.  


	4. Apocalypse How

_Two Weeks Later_

_Cozumel, Mexico_

 

Rourke was pissed. No, he wasn’t pissed. He was _fucking irate_. He clenched his fist tightly as he held his phone to his ear with his other hand.

“You’re telling me that a hundred grand in equipment and two weeks’ worth of supplies just _disappeared_ into thin air?” he demanded.

_“No, sir. A small group splintered off the main camp with supplies in tow.”_

Rourke clenched his jaw. “You’re in charge out there, fix it! Do what you have to do, Mendoza.”

There was hesitation on the other end of the line. “ _Once they were discovered, we were able to catch up with them and recovered the stolen gear.  We sent in a clean-up crew, but it was a total bloodbath.  We have attracted attention in the village.”_

Rourke fought the urge to smash his phone against the nearest tree. “What’s the status of the other two sites?” he asked with an impatient sigh as he smoothed his hair back out of his face.

 _“Site A at Itixi Mitari was a dead end, sir. There’s nothing there. Site B at_ _Trincheira Bacaja could be promising. Investigation is still ongoing.”_

Rourke let out a sigh.  “I am getting on a chopper to Brazil in one hour, and if I have to clean up your goddamn mess when I get there, it won’t be pretty. That clear?”

_"But sir--."_

“Is that clear?” he demanded.

_“Yes, sir.”_

Rourke ended the call without another word and clipped the phone back onto his belt.  He stomped back to the tent where his right-hand man was lounging in a lawn chair with his shirt off.

“Problems?” Winters asked.  

“Yeah,” the Commander said with irritation. “Apparently we lost a squad. A bunch of incompetent bastards is what they are. Where do we find these fucking people?”

He remembered his first days with Trinity when everything ran like a well-oiled machine. Before everyone was at odds with each other, fighting over conflicting ideologies. The best of his soldiers had been picked off by Croft, and he was scraping the bottom of the barrel. His teams consisted of a handful of loyal men—military veterans like himself—and an overwhelming number of lazy millennials just looking for a paycheck and a story to tell their friends. Even his Deacon teams, whom he had personally trained since Day One, weren’t up to par.

Beau Winters was one of the few good men he had left. He had served in the Special Forces with Winters, and he was one of his first Trinity recruits. He considered him to be one of his closest allies. Winters was a cocky son-of-a-bitch if there ever was one, and Rourke believed that’s why they got along so well.

"I’m heading out to Brazil at 20:00. So that means you’re in charge until I get back.”

“Sure thing, Chief,” Winters said.

"I'm gonna go find Jo and see if she's speaking to me today," Rourke said.

Rourke was worried about her. They’d been in Mexico for two weeks, and she had been distancing herself from everyone, which was highly unusual for her. She’d always been an outgoing person and most of the guys saw her as just one of them. Jo had always had an innate, maternal instinct that the guys picked up on, so the nickname she’d earned over the years—Ma—was fitting. Everyone knew she’d take care of them and they could confide in her about anything. But as of late, she stayed near her quarters and didn’t talk to anyone.  He knew she wasn’t sleeping at night. There’d been several nights he found her sitting by the campfire alone after everyone else was in bed for the night.  Nights when she refused to talk to him about what was going on in her head.

 

Rourke found her at the edge of camp, lounging against a rock, staring up at the stars.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” Rourke said. He sat down next to her with a tired groan, leaning back against the rock beside her. Feeling her shoulder pressed against him was a small comfort at that very moment.

Jo gave him a sad smile. “Maybe I didn’t want to be found.”

Rourke rubbed his beard and said, “I’m flying out to Brazil in just a couple hours. I wanted you to know.”

“Okay.”

“You gonna be okay?” Rourke asked protectively.

Jo chuckled. “I’m a big girl. I think I can handle myself. I’ll be just fine.”

“I don’t want you to think I brought you here and then bailed.”

“I’ll be fine, Jamie,” Jo said again.  She patted him on the thigh.  "I promise."

“I’m leaving Winters in charge while I’m gone.  You need anything--and I mean anything--you tell him.  You got that?"

“You’re leaving _Winters_ in charge?” Jo asked incredulously.

“Yeah, why?”

“That’s like using a croissant as a fucking dildo. It doesn’t do the job, and it makes a fucking mess.”

Rourke smirked. “Why do you hate him so much?”

Jo rolled her eyes.  “Because he’s an asshole.”

“I’m an asshole," Rourke said with a grin.  "Do you hate me too?”

“Sometimes.”

Rourke swatted away an insect flying around his face.  “Really, though. Why do you hate him?”

“He always talks down to me.  And he's an idiot.”

“You know why he does that, right?”

“To be an asshole.”

“He likes you. He’s just roasting you because he knows he can get a rise out of you.”

"Anyway," Jo said, signaling to Rourke that she was done talking about Winters.  "How long do you think we’re going to be here?”

“I don’t know,” Rourke said. “Why?”

Jo shrugged her shoulders. “There just doesn’t seem to be much going on. I don’t think I even know what we’re looking for.”

Rourke climbed to his feet and held his hand out. “Come with me.”

“Where’re we going?” she asked cautiously.

“There’s something I wanna show you.”

 

Rourke led her to a small structure at the heart of the camp. It was a brightly-lit space packed with books, maps, charts, and different pieces of technology he sure as hell couldn’t identify.  Dr. Dominguez was seated at the desk in the corner of the small office and immediately looked up when he heard the door shut behind them.

“Good evening, Commander,” he said. He pulled off his glasses and said, “Dr. Wilkens, good to see you again.”

“Evening, sir,” she said.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” he asked, folding his hands neatly on the table in front of him.

Rourke placed his hand on the small of Jo's back, directing her to move forward.  “I wanted to show Wilkens what we’re doing here."

“Please, make yourself at home,” Dominguez said, gesturing with his hands.

Jo’s attention was drawn to the various maps strewn on the table in front of her.  She rested her hands on a sketch of one of the dig sites.  "How do you know where to dig when the island is covered with jungle?  Drones?”

“Come, let me show you,” Dominguez said. He motioned for her to follow him and led her to the computer at the far end of the room.

“LIDAR,” Dominguez said proudly.

“What’s LIDAR?”

“Light Detection and Ranging,” Dominguez said. “We scanned the island with aerial lasers and were able to make 3D maps of all the remote areas that would’ve otherwise been inaccessible to us.”

Dominguez pulled up a photo that looked like a topographical map in varying shades of green, yellow, and red. “With LIDAR we are able to see through the jungle to see what’s beneath it. It’s like an _x-ray_ of the human body but on a much bigger scale.”

“This is fascinating!” Jo cried. “There’s an entire complex hidden here in the jungle!”

“ _Yes, untouched for centuries,_ ” Dominguez mused.

Rourke noticed the glimmer in her eyes as she studied the images on the screen.  Since she had arrived in Mexico, he noticed that she seemed to have lost her spark.  A small smile formed on his lips when he realized that she seemed to be  _excited_ about something again.

“There are dozens of structures here,” Jo said. “How do you know where to start?”

Rourke pointed to a structure on the map and said, “The key to our next phase is here. At the cliffside dig site. We just have to find a way in.”

“This is incredible!  I had no idea archeology was so high tech,” Jo said.  She turned her attention back to Dr. Dominguez.  "So why all the time and expense?  What are you looking for so desperately?”

Dominguez studied Jo for a brief moment. He caught Rourke’s eye, and it wasn’t until the younger man gave him a nod of approval that he spoke again. “I am researching a Maya myth. Two artifacts, the Key of Chak Chel and the Silver Box of Ix Chel, when united will yield the power to remake the world.”

"What?" Jo asked with disbelief.

"The artifacts--."

Rourke waved Dominguez off.  “When the Lord gave His covenant to Noah, saying never again will He destroy this world, it can be interpreted as He has decided humanity has learned their lesson.  There is also a different interpretation to be made, and that is that He has given the agency of destruction to mankind itself.  We are responsible for every living soul.  It has been four thousand years since the world saw purity, and we aim to end that.   _We_ will be the architects of the new world.   _We_ will pave the street to heaven for all.   _We_ will usher an end to this sinful, reprehensible world.”

“Commander,” Dominguez said thoughtfully, “are the contingency plans in place for when we breach the entrance to the temple?”

“Yes, sir,” Rourke said. “Before we enter the site, I will initiate Operation Blackout. Evacuation plans are in place and will be implemented before the dagger is touched.”

Jo laughed nervously. “So what are you saying? That these artifacts can _destroy_ the world?”

Dominguez’s gaze fell onto the LIDAR images still up on the computer. “Yes . . . should they fall into the wrong hands.”

 

*                    *                    *

 

_We know for sure it’s here. At the cliffside dig._

Konstantin stood just outside the door of the office building, hidden in the shadows. He could clearly hear the voices of Dr. Dominguez and Rourke inside.

So Trinity was looking for another way to reshape the world. He remembered the days when he was as devout as Rourke, when he was willing to do their bidding without question. Rourke was still young and had much to learn. Konstantin had seen Trinity rear its ugly head, and his blind devotion ultimately cost him his wife and the majority of his adult life.  When Ana fell ill, he took no issue with using Trinity as a means to an end. He knew that, through Trinity, he would be successful in finding the Divine Source to save Ana’s life.  His thoughts momentarily shifted to his sister.  He wondered if she could still be hanging on.

The door to the office opened, and Jo flew out of the building. Rourke jogged after her at a brisk pace. Konstantin shrunk back against the side of the building, holding his breath and standing as still as possible.

“Wait up!” Rourke called. “What’s wrong?”

Jo stopped walking and turned around.  “I’m creeped the fuck out, that’s what’s wrong.”

“Why?”

“Did you hear yourself in there? When you were reciting that _manifesto_ about the destruction of mankind, you sounded like a crazed cult member or something. Is that what Trinity is now, a cult? You’re looking for more supernatural shit, aren’t you? After what happened in Siberia, you had the balls to get me here on false pretenses?”

“Technically I didn’t go into detail about the assignment,” Rourke said, his tone condescending. “I didn’t lie to you about anything.”

Jo cursed under her breath.

“ _Remember your Oath, Jo,_ ” Rourke said sternly.

Jo scowled at him.

Silence fell between them, interrupted only by the sound of insects in the trees around them.

“So what’s Operation Blackout?” Jo asked. “Please don’t tell me it’s going to be like fucking Jonestown out here.”

“It’s our insurance policy,” Rourke said. He wanted to keep the explanation as simple as possible, but he knew Jo would push him for more details.

She frowned. “What do you mean ‘insurance policy’?”

“When we find the entrance to the temple, none of the local workers will leave the site alive. It’s our way of making sure nobody knows about us, what we found, or that we were ever at the site.”

Jo’s face fell.  “So you’re killing innocent people?”

Rourke frowned. “It is a necessary evil.”

“Why is it necessary? So you're luring desperate people with the promise of good-paying jobs only to dispose of them when you’re finished? What if those people have families? Children? And why do we need to be evacuated before this dagger is even touched?” Jo demanded.

“Dominguez says that when the dagger is removed, the Cleansing will begin with a tsunami.”

Jo laughed scornfully. “So this village will be wiped off the map? Why even bother with Operation Blackout then?”

“You know, Jo, I’m having trouble remembering why you even joined this organization in the first place,” Rourke blurted. He glanced at his watch. “I gotta go.”

 

Konstantin watched Rourke walk away, leaving Jo behind seething with anger. So many things were running through his mind he couldn’t make sense of them. _Key. Dagger. Silver box. Cliffside dig. Cleansing. Tsunami._

He knew what he needed to do.

 

*                    *                    *

 

Jo stared up at the roof of her tent, willing herself to sleep. She’d been tossing and turning for hours, as she did most nights. She raised her arm, and the face of her smartwatch lit up, blinding her momentarily. It was 02:23.

 _“Fuck my life,”_ she muttered as she threw the blanket aside and sat up. She pulled on her boots and emerged from her tent, planning to warm herself in front of the fire and collect her thoughts. As usual, she had to stoke the fire since the last of the men had abandoned it hours before.

She was sick to her stomach with anxiety. She hated fighting with Rourke. They were both equally stubborn, and they’d had their share of fights over the years. But nothing like this. The look of utter disappointment on his face when she questioned him was ingrained in her memory.  He had long since left for Brazil, and she desperately felt the need to talk to him. She considered calling him for a moment, but he had enough to deal with. He didn’t care about her or their fight when he was on a mission.

A branch snapped sharply directly behind her. Jo whipped around, putting her back to the fire. Her pulse quickened as her eyes adjusted to the pitch black. She could only just make out the profile of a person walking along the edge of the treeline toward the entrance to the dig.

Croft? She’d heard gossip that she’d been spotted in town. What if she’d snuck her way into the dig on the very night that Rourke had gone off to Brazil? Jo scrambled to her feet and crept behind the person walking briskly away from the camp. She stayed in the shadows until she had nearly arrived at the guard shack that would remain empty until daylight.

Jo’s fingertips dropped to the AB .45 holstered at her hip. She ducked behind a tree as the figure passed beneath a spot light.

_It was Konstantin._

What was he doing sneaking around in the middle of the night, and where the hell was he going?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Few things: 
> 
> 1\. Some of the details in this chapter are tied to Trinity documents found throughout the game.  
> 2\. I am not an archeologist.  
> 3\. If Shadow of the Tomb Raider is ever made into a movie, Keanu Reeves must be cast as Rourke.  
> 4\. Croissant line is courtesy of Veep.


	5. Incommunicado

  _The Next Day_

_Brazil_

Commander Rourke stared down at the bodies of six men carelessly tossed into a shallow grave. The bodies were riddled with bullets and had been stripped of their weapons and any identifying insignia.

 _“What a fucking waste,”_ he muttered.

Rourke moved into the tent where the leader of the attempted _coup d’_ _é_ _tat_ was restrained with wires around his wrists and ankles.

“Morning, sir,” the man muttered.

“Whitman,” Rourke said curtly. He stared at the man for several moments, clenching his fists and fighting the overwhelming urge to pistol whip him square in the face. He paced the floor for several moments until he finally stopped in front of him and crossed his arms. He could see the unease on Whitman’s face. “How are you?” Rourke asked finally.

“I’ve been better, sir. How are you?”

“I’m not having a very good day, Whit. You know why?” Rourke asked, his tone condescending.

Whitman averted his eyes and said nothing.

“I had to drop everything and fly here in the middle of the night because of your fucking shenanigans.”

“Sorry, sir,” Whitman said.

“You got six of my people killed.”

“This has all been a big misunderstanding,” Whit pleaded.

Rourke stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Don’t bullshit me.”

Whit stared up at the Commander and said, “Sir, I got word that my wife, who is pregnant with twins—our first—was admitted to the hospital. I took enough supplies to get me through the trek back to town so I could get home.”

Rourke stared at the man with narrowed eyes. He’d known Whit for several years; he’d been a loyal soldier and never caused any trouble. But his story wasn't adding up.

“I try to be a nice guy,” Rourke said. “I really do. But then people take advantage of that and do stupid shit like this. Then I’m not so nice.”

“Sir, I swear. It’s true,” the man pleaded.

Rourke patted the AB .45 in his hip holster. “You know what we usually do with fuck-ups, Whit?”

“Yes, sir. I do.”

“What’s that?”

“Section 2, Paragraph A of the Code of Conduct states that any asset thought to be rogue shall be eradicated at the discretion of the Commander-in-Chief, sir.”

“And who’s the Commander-in-Chief?”

The man stared fearfully at Rourke and swallowed hard. “You are, sir.”

“If you were going to see your wife, why did you have six other guys and two weeks’ worth of supplies with you?”

“When they saw what I was doing, they followed me. They wanted out. I didn’t have anything to do with that. I swear I’m telling you the truth, sir.”

Rourke dug his hands deeper into his pockets. His fingers brushed the strand of warm, smooth beads he always carried in his right front pocket. He pulled out a rosary and held it tightly in his hand. The rosary had been his mother’s, a gift she gave him when he left for his first tour in Iraq almost twenty years ago. He’d carried it with him ever since, though he hardly considered himself a devout Catholic.

_So you’re killing innocent people? What if these people have wives? Children?_

Jo's words from the night before haunted him as he struggled to decide on the right course of action.

“Let him go, Mendoza,” Rourke ordered after a long moment of silence.

Whit let out a sob of relief. “Thank you, sir! Thank you!”

“You fuck up again and you won’t be so lucky.”

“I won’t. I swear,” Whit said.

“Go home to your wife,” Rourke said.

 

Rourke watched the man leave the tent and then turned to Mendoza.

“So what now?”

Rourke slipped the rosary back into his pocket and said, “What’s the status of Site B now?”

“The archeologists have ruled it a dead end.”

“I want both Sites A and B scrubbed. Eliminate all the workers and flood the sites. Send our men to Cozumel and put them on stand-by.” Rourke glared at Mendoza and said, “I want everything here scrubbed too. Blow the levee and flood the village out. We’ll seed some bullshit story about flooding due to climate change in the media.”

“Yes, sir,” Mendoza said. He turned to leave the tent.

“Oh and Mendoza,” Rourke called.

The man stopped in his tracks.

“I’ll be sticking around to make sure you don’t fuck this up, too.”

“Yes, sir.”

 

_So you’re killing innocent people? What if these people have wives? Children?_

Jo’s words echoed in his ears once again. Goddamn it. She’d have him by the balls if she had heard the orders he just gave. He was still aggravated with her, but the truth was he found himself missing her. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and brought up his photos. Their last night in Providence, Jo had stolen his phone and taken a silly drunken selfie. It would have been a perfect photo if his own face and crooked smirk weren’t in it. She’d snapped the picture mid-laugh, and she actually looked happy.

He’d always thought she was gorgeous when she was happy. When that woman smiled, her green eyes sparkled and she could truly light up a room. She had no idea—and he wasn’t about to tell her—that he’d kept that photo and looked at it constantly. He wasn't even supposed to have a personal cell phone on him while on duty per Trinity regulations, but he didn't care. It wasn't like he could actually make a call out in the middle of the jungle anyway.

Rourke realized then that it was wrong of him to question Jo's loyalty to him or to Trinity. She had sacrificed the last six years of her life simply because he’d asked her to. She risked her life in Siberia to save Konstantin. She always put everyone else before herself. She was a fiercely loyal woman, and she deserved to be protected at all costs.

Rourke pulled out his satellite phone and attempted to call base camp in Cozumel. He needed to talk to her. He needed to know that there were no hard feelings between them. He waited for the phone to acquire signal, but it never did. Each time he tried to call he received the annoying error tone.

He stormed out of the tent and went to the communications hub.

“Why the fuck can’t I get signal?!” he demanded.

The technician, an overweight neckbeard named Todd, nearly jumped out of his chair. “Everything is up and running on our end, sir,” the man huffed.

“Then why can’t I get through to Cozumel?”

“Something must've happened to take down the comm links." 

*                    *                    * 

_Cozumel, Mexico_

Jo scowled at the man laying on the cot in the infirmary with his legs stretched out and feet like shriveled white prunes. She _hated_ feet. _Especially_ men’s feet. She saw them as disgusting, smelly, mutated hands, and she had no acceptable reason for feeling that way. She just did.

 _I’m having trouble remembering why you even joined this organization in the first place._ She couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d said to her the night before. _Fuck Rourke_ , she thought. _Fuck him and his charming little bastard face and his stupid Fabio hair_.

“Easy!” the man shouted.

Jo applied a bandage to a blister on the bottom of his foot and said, “You’ve got trench foot. Make sure you’re changing your socks, keeping your feet dry, and practicing good hygiene.” This spiel was becoming repetitive; she’d already had to give it to a handful of men in the past week.

She snapped off her gloves and said, “Let me know if that blister gets worse.”

“Thanks, Doc,” he said.

Jo sat down at her desk and picked up her tablet to chart her latest medical encounter. In one week, she’d seen more cases of trench foot and mysterious ball rashes than she’d seen in her entire medical career thus far.

_I’m having trouble remembering why you even joined this organization in the first place._

_Fuck Rourke,_ she thought again. _Fuck him and his smug smile and smoldering eyes. Fuck him and his chiseled jaw and strong shoulders._

Who was she kidding?

She could never stay mad at him for as long as he deserved.

His words had been taunting her, and she supposed it was because she truly didn’t _know_ why she was there. She was a female in a largely male organization. She didn’t buy into Trinity’s beliefs. She was just a physician, and she was there to save lives. Deep down, she wished she’d never agreed to join Trinity; she could be saving lives at home in Providence.

The hard truth was that Trinity owned her, and she couldn’t get out if she wanted to. Not because of her loyalty to Rourke. Not because she’d taken an Oath. Because Trinity _owned_ her. She had been in debt up to her eyeballs from her Ivy League education, and Trinity picked up the tab. She would have to work for free for years to pay back that debt, and she just couldn’t bring herself to do that.

Jo’s eyes fell onto the satellite phone laying on the desk next to her. She snatched it up and slowly dialed a number. She needed to talk to him.

But the more she thought about it, she realized that by calling him, she’d be admitting defeat. She wasn’t the one who was at fault. _He_ was. She cancelled the call and threw the phone back down.

She stared at the it for a long moment before picking it up again and dialing Rourke’s number once again.

The phone rang and rang, but he never picked up. Disgusted, she threw it back down and was immediately pulled from her thoughts when another man entered the infirmary. Not even looking up, she held up a hand and said, “Listen, if you’re here for itchy balls or stinky feet, come back tomorrow.”

“I’m not.”

The rough baritone voice was enough to gather Jo’s attention.

“What do you want?” she asked smugly.

Konstantin sat down in the chair in front of Jo and held out his hands. “I need you to look at my hands.”

Jo shot him an uncertain look. “You should’ve had those wounds treated years ago, and I’ve been telling you that—.”

“Just look,” Konstantin interrupted.

She looked down at his palms, and she realized that they’d healed almost completely. She washed her hands quickly and pulled on a new pair of gloves. She looked up at him with surprise on her face. “Wow.”

“I need the stitches removed,” he said.

Jo grabbed scissors and tweezers from her gear and started working on clipping threads and pulling out pieces of the nylon sutures. They sat in silence for several moments, and Jo kept catching him watching her. Every time she looked up, he would turn his head.

“What?” she asked finally.

Konstantin cleared his throat loudly. “Nothing.”

“Why do you keep looking at me?” she snapped.

Konstantin sighed loudly. “I want to talk to you,” he admitted, “but I don’t know what to say.”

Jo tossed her tools onto the steel tray on a cart next to her. “How’s your sister?”

“Not well,” Konstantin said. “When I left the U.K., she told me she was ready to let go.”

Jo couldn’t help but notice what almost sounded like relief in his voice.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Jo said. “I should have called her. I always liked Ana.”

“She was fond of you too, Jo,” Konstantin said quietly.

“So you’ve been in the U.K. then?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I’ve been there since . . . since Siberia.”

“Why?” Jo asked sharply. She couldn’t help but think that there was a possibility he was still messing around with Croft.

“I spent almost a month in the hospital recovering and then I just stayed to help take care of Ana.”

“I’m honestly surprised to see you here,” Jo said.

“I was given a chance to just walk away from Trinity,” he said with a tired sigh. “After everything that went down, the High Council let me walk away. I think I have you to thank for that.”

“Why’s that?” Jo asked, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“Because Rourke is the one who had the final say,” Konstantin said. “I think he did it out of respect for you.”

Jo scowled and said, “Rourke has no respect for me.”

“ _Aww_ ,” Konstantin teased. “Did you two have a falling out?”

Jo shot him a look of pure venom. “So if Trinity just let you go, why are you here?”

“Rourke asked me to come back. I don’t really know why I agreed.” 

They sat in silence for a long time. “How long are you going to hate me? I need my friend back.”

“I don’t hate you,” Jo said. “I’m just struggling with some things right now.”

“You can talk to me,” Konstantin said. “God knows you’ve listened to me enough over the years."

Jo scoffed. “I don’t want to bore you with my problems.”

“Try me.”

Jo rolled her eyes.  "Fine . . . some nights I can’t sleep because when I close my eyes, I see things. Those _things_ in Kitezh, the chopper crash . . . . I feel the heat of flames against my skin . . . . I relive it _over and over_ again.”

“Joanna, I am truly very sorry about everything that happened to you,” Konstantin said. He held her gaze for a moment and said, “These past months have been hard, not knowing if you were okay and knowing that no amount of phone calls or text messages was going to make you speak to me.”

“If it’s any consolation, I didn’t respond to any of Rourke’s calls or texts either.”

“What’d he do to you, anyway?” Konstantin asked. “I’ve never seen him get under your skin like this.”

Jo grumbled under her breath and said, “It’s a long story that I don’t really want to get into right now.”

Konstantin stood and rubbed his fingers over his palm. “Thanks for fixing me up.”

”Anytime.”

He moved to the door and stopped. He turned back and said, “Are we good?”

Jo picked up her tablet again and said, “Yeah, we’re good. Now go away, I have Spider Solitaire to play!”

*                    *                    *

Lara slumped in her chair as she waited patiently for the _chilaquiles_ and cup of hot coffee she’d ordered to arrive at the table. She was exhausted and absolutely famished after being awake the better part of the night. Her eyes were still heavy with sleep as she squinted at the worn-out list of coordinates she’d been carrying with her for weeks. They were nearly at the end of the list and had found nothing. _Absolutely nothing._

Jonah was relaxed in the chair across from her, taking in everything and everyone around him. Lara wished she could be more like him, always calm and at ease. He fit in wherever he went and never had to worry about anxiety or being socially backward like she did.

“I’m starting to lose hope that we’re ever going to find out what Trinity’s after,” she said.

“Keep the faith, Little Bird,” he said. “Look at how far we’ve come—you can’t give up now.”

Lara brushed her hair out of her face and said, “Are you sure Hector didn’t send us on a wild goose chase?”

Jonah shook his head. “No way. Hector’s good people.”

Lara’s eyes lit up when she saw her breakfast dish—a pile of shredded chicken, queso fresco, red salsa, and avocado slices on a bed of crispy tortilla quarters—approaching the table. She’d had the same breakfast nearly every morning since her arrival in Cozumel, and each day it tasted just as good as the last.

“Jonah,” Lara said as she started wolfing down the food on her plate, “you need to get a life.”

Jonah chuckled loudly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean you need to find a nice woman. I’m always dragging you all around the world, and I’m afraid I’m keeping you from being happy.”

Jonah let out a booming laugh. "Somebody’s gotta keep you out of trouble.”

Lara shrugged. “I think the perfect woman for you would be versatile. She could dress herself up and go out for an elegant night on the town but also hold her own. I picture someone who can change her own tires or work on engines in her spare time.”

Jonah laughed again. “So you’re thinking a beauty queen mechanic?”

Lara smiled. “Exactly.”

Jonah nodded his head and said, “I could go for a girl like that, but she’s got to have some killer tattoos.”

Lara rolled her eyes. “You and your tattoos.”

“Hey, don’t judge,” Jonah said.

 

Lara thought about Konstantin for a moment. She hadn’t heard from him for almost a month, and she was oddly fine with it. They were hardly in a committed relationship—they’d been intimate only a handful of times, and their interactions consisted of not much else. She didn’t know what they were or even what she wanted them to be.

Lara’s gaze fell onto the map she’d been looking at earlier, and her eyes were drawn to a site marked on the outskirts of the city.

“Jonah,” she said finally. She plopped her finger onto the map and said, “We need to search this temple next.”

“Why?”

“Call it a gut feeling,” Lara said.

She wasn’t about to tell Jonah that her “gut feeling” was based entirely on a mysterious clue scribbled on a post-it note she’d found stuck to her hotel room door the night before.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never actually had chilaquiles, but it looks/sounds delicious. I hope the description does it justice.


	6. Once Upon a Time in Mexico

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lara follows an anonymous clue to some ruins outside the city. Jo is haunted by a recurring nightmare and seeks comfort from an old friend as Rourke returns from Brazil. Jo and Rourke go out for a night on the town. Chaos ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Very brief mention of pregnancy loss.

_Cozumel, Mexico_

_A Few Days Later_

 

Jo felt unsteady on her feet. Almost dizzy. She stood in the middle of a grassy field, surrounded by a thick, gray fog. She could hear children laughing somewhere ahead of her. She was overcome by a nagging urge to follow the sound.

She cautiously moved up the hill and found herself standing in the middle of a backyard. There was a boy with shaggy brown hair, no more than five years old, running around with a toy gun beneath a large treehouse.

 _“There are hostiles in the area!”_ the boy shouted into a walkie-talkie.

A brunette girl stepped out onto the porch of the treehouse.

 _“Dinner’s ready! Get your butt in the house!”_ she scolded with her hands planted firmly on her hips.

Jo watched the boy drop his gun and race up the ladder as he’d been ordered.

“Hey,” a voice came from behind her.

Jo turned to see who it was, but she couldn’t see anyone through the fog.

“Who’s there?” she called.

“You okay?”

The voice. Something about the voice was _familiar_. It was a man’s voice; she couldn’t place it, but she definitely recognized it. She turned a full circle, searching for the person the voice belonged to. No one was there.

“What’s going on? What am I doing here?” Jo demanded.

“The kids are playing?”

“Whose kids?” Jo demanded.

“ _Our_ kids?”

Jo scanned her surroundings. She had no idea where she was. _She had to be dreaming._

Suddenly a hand came through the fog, reaching for her. “Come on.”

Jo hesitated. She stared at the outstretched hand with unease. She reached for it, her own hand trembling.

Her fingertips barely brushed his when she was brought to her knees by a powerful blow to her chest. She clutched her throat, gasping to breathe.

“ _W—what’s happening_?” she cried.

Her fingers felt wet, and she pulled back her hands to find them dripping with blood.

 

Jo shot up with a gasp. _It was just a dream._ Thank God, it was just a dream. Her breathing was ragged as she fought to regain her bearings. The throbbing pain in her chest was very real; she couldn’t decide if it was from her heart pounding so hard or if it was the beginning of a panic attack.

Jo threw the blanket off herself and climbed out of bed. It was barely past midnight, but she knew there was no way she would be able to fall back to sleep again anytime soon.

She looked down at her duffel and saw her satellite phone laying close by. She grabbed it and dialed a number. She needed to talk to Rourke; it had been almost a week since she had heard from him. She needed him to tell her that she was okay. She needed to hear his voice.

And she needed to know _he_ was okay. Her mind went wild imagining the possibilities. Maybe he never even made it to Brazil; the chopper could’ve gone down somewhere in the Amazon where it would never be found. What if he’d been killed by a jaguar? Did he cross paths with Croft?

When an error tone blared in her ear, she threw the phone back down. She felt sick to her stomach. With unsteady hands she poured herself a double shot of tequila and tossed it back in one gulp. She clenched her eyes shut as the warm liquor settled into her stomach. _Rourke is fine_ , she told herself. _He’s just busy._

Jo gathered the bottle of tequila and shot glass and left the tent with plans to relax next to the fire. She was only a few steps away when she saw that Konstantin was already there, staring solemnly into the flames.

She made her way toward him and sat down beside him.

“Hey,” she muttered.

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” Konstantin asked gruffly.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

Konstantin shrugged. “I’ve been thinking.”

“About what?”

“Ana,” he said. “I went into town and called to check on her; it won’t be long now.”

“Sorry.” Jo poured herself another double and offered the bottle to Konstantin.

He shook his head. “You know I don’t drink.”

“Fine, I didn’t really want to share anyway,” Jo mumbled.

“Something on your mind?”

“I had that dream again.”

Konstantin frowned at Jo. “I don’t know why you’re letting it bother you so much.”

“It’s the same dream every single night, K. The same exact dream.”

He shrugged his shoulders.

Jo let out a sigh. “I don’t know what bothers me more: the fact that I get closer to dying every time I have the dream or when I wake up and realize that there are no children and I’m thirty-six and alone.”

Konstantin glanced at her thoughtfully. “At least you aren’t forty-seven and still alone.”

“You’ve been married, though,” Jo said. “I’ve never even come close.”

Konstantin looked down at his boots and said nothing.

 

When Konstantin first met Jo, she was a cocky new doctor fresh out of an Ivy League university. She had no business working with paramilitary organization like Trinity. She slowed the team down, and he was constantly having to reprimand her.

Despite his attitude toward her, she developed an infatuation with him. He was happily married at the time, and he _never_ returned her flirtations or longing glances. Not even once. It wasn’t until a mission in India that she finally proved her worth to him, and his attitude toward her softened. Trinity had stumbled on a militant sect during their search for the legendary Infada Stone, and he’d been wounded by shrapnel from a grenade blast. He’ll never forget looking up and seeing her shooting off rounds with a 0.45 with one hand as she treated his wounds with the other.

As they grew closer, he confided in her that he and his wife, Lucy, had tried for years to have children and couldn’t. He still remembered the day that he went to her with a letter in his hand, happier than he’d been in as long as he could remember. Lucy was pregnant. He felt like a new person, always smiling, always talking about finally getting to become a father.

It was around the time that Ana was first diagnosed with lung cancer that everything fell apart. His baby daughter died in the womb, and the doctors had no explanation. He buried himself in work to cover up the pain. The search for the Divine Source was the metaphorical nail in the coffin for their marriage.

He will never forget the night he went home to New York to find his house empty. The only thing his wife left behind was the divorce papers. Jo was with him through it all. She was there when he hit rock bottom, when Lucy took everything in the divorce and shattered his heart into a million pieces. She was truly the best person he knew.

 

Suddenly, Jo cleared her throat and said, “I just wish I understood what the dream is trying to tell me. Who is the man? And why does it always end the way it does?”

Konstantin shrugged his shoulders and said, “I think you’re putting too much stock in a dream, Joanna.”

“There’s something else, too,” Jo said.

“What is it?”

“Nobody has heard from Rourke in a week, not even Winters. I’m worried about him.”

Konstantin scoffed. “Maybe he’s dead in a ditch somewhere. It’d serve him right.”

“That’s not funny,” Jo said defensively.

“I thought you hated him?”  
“He’s an asshole, but I wouldn’t wish him dead!”

Konstantin shrugged again.

As Jo stared into the flickering flames of the fire, she finally started noticing the soothing effects of the tequila. Her head was swimming, and her eyelids grew heavy. It wasn’t long after that she retreated to her bunk and fell back to sleep.

 

*                     *                     *

  
_The Next Morning_

_Dia de Muertos_

 

Lara coughed heavily as the dust settled around her. She found herself trapped beneath a pile of rubble in complete darkness, and she couldn’t help but ask herself, _“What the hell was I thinking by following an anonymous tip?”_

She tried to move, but the rocks around her didn’t budge. She managed to free her arm enough to pick up the radio clipped to her belt.

 _“Jonah? You there?”_ Lara called.

The radio returned nothing but static.

“Oh, damn!” she cried.

She clicked on her light and struggled to pull herself up. Her leg was stuck beneath a chunk of something heavy. _“Shit.”_

Lara’s radio crackled to life a few moments later. _“Lara, you okay?”_

Thank God, it was Jonah.

“Jonah, I’m here! Just a little stuck. Uh, a rock pinned my leg.”

_“Don’t move. I’ll get help.”_

“No! I’m right on Trinity’s tail. I don’t want to attract attention.”

_“I’m on my way.”_

“I won’t be long.”

Lara tried again to pull herself free, but she didn’t have the strength. She pulled out her knife and took a deep, calming breath. Against her better judgment, she wedged the blade of the knife beneath the rock, and using the knife as a lever, managed to pry the rock up just enough to pull her leg out from beneath it.

She pulled herself upward into a narrow gap, and dust fell into her eyes as she stared up at the tiny speck of light at the end of the passage. She climbed up the tight passage, which opened up into a large cavern with a waterfall. She fell back onto the rocky floor, fighting to catch her breath.

She picked up her radio again. “Jonah, I’m out. Be careful, the way into the site is full of traps.”

_“Trinity’s not done with it yet.”_

“They’re protecting something.”

_“Six weeks and still no solid leads on who is leading the local Trinity cell. But I talked to some people in town, and they’re excited . . . there’s a VIP coming to the Day of the Dead. Name’s Dominguez. We should look into it.”_

Lara followed a bright beam of light around the bend and found herself in front of a beautiful ornate altar. She pulled out her camera and started snapping photos of the structures and glyphs.

Jonah brought in the rear and joined her at the altar.

“Lara! Whoa, get a load of this place! Guess all that research paid off. Now we know what Trinity’s after.”

“Yeah, they really didn’t want us in here.”

“Glad we followed your father’s notes.”

Jonah immediately took note of her leg. “I saw where the passage collapsed on you back there. Want me to take a look at that wound?”

“No, I’m fine,” Lara said, continuing to take photos.

“What is all this?”

“Constellations. This inscription—it’s some sort of riddle. _Pink fish_ . . . .”

“Pink fish?”

_“Silver-crowned mountain.”_

Lara continued to study the structure, fascinated by the glyphs and images depicted there.

“There’s a date here, but something’s off—looks like it was damaged. Perhaps intentionally. But who would’ve tampered with it?”

“Why would Trinity sabotage this? Usually they just destroy everything.”

“No, I think the damage is older.” She took a step back. “But who would’ve tampered with it?”

A loud boom startled them both. The ground began to shake beneath their feet.

“Lara!” Jonah shouted. “We’ve gotta get out of here.”

Lara hurriedly snapped more pictures of the altar as Jonah pulled her away. She had one last section to photograph, and she yanked away from him.

“Come on!” Jonah shouted. He dragged her back just as part of the ceiling collapsed onto the spot where she’d just been standing.

They raced away from the altar, down the steps, and back the way Jonah had entered as the room crumbled around them.

“Move, move!” Lara shouted.

Lara could the see the exit several yards ahead of them.

“Hurry!”

Lara dove through the opening and landed on the hard ground outside the ruins. Jonah landed next to her with a thud.

“If you hadn’t dragged me out, I’d still be in there taking pictures,” Lara said as she slowly stood.

“You’d still be in there, but I don’t know if you’d be doing much.”

Lara laughed. “Jonah.”

Jonah climbed to his feet. “Hey, you want to freshen up? Regroup at the cafe? Dominguez is supposed to be there tonight.”

“Sounds good.”

 

*                     *                     *

 

Konstantin watched as Lara and Jonah composed themselves after their hectic exit from the ruins. He was glad to see that she’d followed his clue, and he thought she would’ve been ecstatic that they finally found something. But he could tell that she was on edge.

She was looking around suspiciously, as if searching for something.

“Something bothering you?” Jonah asked.

“I have a confession to make,” Lara said.

“What did you do?” Jonah asked with a sigh.

“Someone left an anonymous note on my hotel room door with the coordinates to this place.”

“You followed an anonymous tip?!” Jonah cried with disbelief.

“I can’t help but think that whoever left it knew about the trap and tried to set me up.”

“For all we know, Trinity could’ve left you that clue!” Jonah said with disbelief.

“Trinity doesn’t know that I’m here, Jonah,” Lara said defensively.

“Maybe not, but they have to know you’ll be here eventually.”

Konstantin shifted his weight onto his other leg, brushing against a bush directly in front of him.

 _“Damnit!”_ he thought.

Lara spun around, looking directly at the spot where he was hiding. Her eyes scanned the treeline, and her hand fell to the pistol holstered at her hip.

“What is it?” Jonah asked.

Lara shook her head, her eyes still fixed on the spot in the vegetation. “Is someone there?” she called.

Konstantin held his breath. He wasn’t ready for her to know that he was there. Not yet.

When her question was met with silence, Lara finally shrugged and loosened up.

“Maybe I’m hearing things,” she said. “I’ll try and decipher the riddle—see if the date has anything to do with it.”

 

When their voices disappeared and he was sure the coast was clear, Konstantin stepped out from the bushes and started to trek back to camp. He had to find Winters.

 

*                     *                     *

 

Cardinal Two landed in Cozumel at 1300. The crew had already exited the chopper, and Rourke slumped back in his seat and rubbed his face. He was exhausted from the long flight and the events of the past week.

The demo team had waited until after the sun set before they blew the river levee. All Trinity personnel had been removed from the site and Rourke was safely aboard the chopper headed back for Mexico when the blasts began. The night sky lit up with a string of bright orange explosions lasting only a few seconds before all was quiet again. The village never knew what hit it.

Even though he didn’t have to worry about those loose ends anymore, he still felt quite anxious because God only knew what kind of mess he was coming back to after not being able to reach base in almost a week.

When he stepped off the chopper, he was glad to finally be on solid ground and have the chance to stretch his legs. He walked away from the helipad and set off for his bunk. He was ready to wash up and get a few hours of sleep at the very least.

When he neared the command center, he found Winters lounging in a lawn chair wearing a pair of tanning goggles. Smirking to himself, he kicked the bottom of the chair, and Winters sprung to his feet, his goggles falling to the ground.

“What the fuck, man?!” Winters shouted.

“Honey, I’m home.”

“Welcome back,” Winters said. He sat back down in the chair. “Where the fuck have you been all week?”

“Comms were down,” Rourke said. “I’ve been trying to call you all week, too. Anything I need to get caught up on?”

“Somebody set off a trap at the one of the sites early this morning,” Winters said. “But other than that, same old shit.”

Rourke frowned. “I assume you sent in a recon team to find out what happened?”  
“Didn’t need to. Miller told me about an hour ago that he has reason to believe it was Croft and that she’s going to try to get into the dig tonight.”

Rourke narrowed his eyes. “And how did he come to get this information?”

“He wouldn’t say.”

Rourke shrugged and said, “Stick a couple guys down at the gate. If she tries to get in, we’ll find her. I think I’m going to turn in for a little while, get some shut eye.”  
He was a few steps away when Winters shouted after him. “Oh, Wilkens has been asking about you. You better report to the infirmary ASAP so she’ll stop bugging the shit out of me.”  
Rourke’s ears perked up at the mention of her name.

“Copy that,” he said. He walked away from Winters with his sights on his bunk. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and brought up the photo of Jo and himself. He’d spent a lot of time staring at that photo, considering what he was going to say to her when he saw her again.

There hadn’t been a moment while he was gone that she hadn’t been on his mind. He wanted to find her so they could talk, but he simply didn’t know what to say.

Rourke changed course and headed toward the infirmary. He paused outside the structure and listened for any signs of activity before poking his head in the door to find Jo busy stocking drawers with various medical supplies.

Rourke stepped into the tent and cleared his throat loudly to get her attention. Jo turned around quickly and scowled when she saw him.

“Unless you’re here for a medical reason, go away,” she said.

“I missed you, too,” Rourke said smugly.

“What do you want?” Jo asked, her tone sharp. “I’m really busy.”

Rourke eyed the packages in her hand. “Someone having a gauze emergency?” he asked wryly.

Jo moved closer to him and shoved him hard.

“What the fuck?!” he shouted, rubbing a sore spot on his ribs.

“Nobody has heard from you in a week! You could’ve been dead in a ditch somewhere for all we knew!”

“I tried calling!” Rourke shouted back. “But I couldn’t get through! Didn’t you stop and think it was suspicious that nobody here had heard from me?”

“I thought you were blowing me off.”

They stared at each other for several moments. Rourke looked down at his hands and said, “Before I left, I said some things I didn’t mean. I should have told you the full truth about everything, but I was afraid you wouldn’t come back if I did. I really wanted you back. I’m a fucking idiot.”

Jo moved forward again, and he braced himself for another shove. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and hugged him. “Glad you’re not dead.”

Rourke scoffed.

Jo pulled away as if nothing happened and resumed stocking medical supplies in the drawers in front of her.

“You want to have dinner with me tonight?” Rourke asked suddenly.

“If you’re talking MREs, forget it,” Jo said, not even bothering to look up at him.

“No, I mean at a restaurant in town. We’ll take the night off for the Day of the Dead.”

“Like a date?” Jo asked, lifting an eyebrow.

Rourke hesitated. “Just two good friends eating food together . . . you know, _dinner_?”

Jo laughed. “I’d love to.”

“I’ll pick you up at 1800 then,” Rourke said.

 

*                     *                     *

 

Rourke returned to the command center after making rounds to find Winters still camped out in his lawn chair, working on his tan with a beer in his hand.

“I hate to interrupt happy hour, Winters, but you’re in charge again tonight,” Rourke said.

“What’s up, Chief?” Winters asked, draining the rest of his beer from the can. He crumpled the can in his hand and tossed it into the trees nearby.

“I’ve got plans,” he said.

“Plans to what?”

“I’ve got a _date_.”

 _“_ A _date_ , huh?” Winters asked, raising one eyebrow.

“Well, it’s not really a date. I don’t know what the hell it is.”

“Rourke, I hate to break it to you, but you can’t really call it a ‘date’ when you’re paying the lady.”

“Not with a hooker, dickhole,” Rourke said sharply. He started walking across the camp to his bunk with Winters in tow.

“Then who?”

“Wilkens,” Rourke said finally. He kicked off his boots and started unclipping his utility vest. “That good enough for you?”

Rourke pulled off his shirt and cast it aside as he shed his fatigues. He grabbed a pair of black trousers from the back of a chair and stepped into them.

“You’re wearing a suit?” Winters asked. “It’s almost a hundred degrees.”

“I like it,” Rourke said. “It’s sharp.”

Winters raised his hands in surrender. “Fine. Where are you going for dinner?”

“Wherever she wants to go,” he said. He filled a basin with water and washed his face and neck. He smoothed his hair back and examined his reflection in the mirror.

“You’re such a pretty fucker,” Winters joked. “You got rubbers?”

“It’s not that kind of a date,” Rourke said.

“What other kind is there?”

Rourke shrugged. “Jo and I are just good friends.”

“Sure, boss,” Winters said. “You’re not fooling anybody.”

 

The door opened, casting a slice of bright light into Rourke’s quarters and attracting the attention of both men. Jo stepped into the tent wearing a bright red floral off-the-shoulder dress that fluttered around her knees when she moved. Her hair was curled and fell around her bare shoulders in soft, dark waves.

Winters whistled loudly, and Jo visibly blushed.

“Be back before midnight, kids,” Winters said, edging past Jo to leave.

Rourke couldn’t take his eyes off her as she walked toward him.

“Wow,” he said. “You’re _glowing_.”

Jo blushed again. “Thank you.”

“I’m not quite ready yet,” Rourke said. “Obviously.”

 

He sat down in front of a small mirror and lathered his neck with his favorite shaving soap. He tilted his head back to run a razor across his skin. Jo studied his face in the reflection of the mirror. She could still see the shaggy-haired, freckle-faced boy she grew up with, but his beard and dark, brooding eyes really cemented the fact that he had become a strong, capable man.

“What’s wrong?” he asked suddenly.

Jo blinked, snapping out of her trance. “Nothing.”

“You were just staring at me for a full thirty seconds,” he said with a smirk.

Jo blushed once again. She was an anxious mess, and she didn’t understand why.

Rourke wiped his face clean with a towel. “You thought about where you wanna go, what you wanna do?”

Jo shrugged. “Not really.”

Rourke grabbed his shirt from the back of the chair and quickly put it on. Jo’s eyes fell onto his muscular shoulders and the patch of fine, dark hair in the center of his chest. Her gaze glanced over his trim waist and followed the narrow trail of hair extending downward from his navel—.

“My eyes are up here.”

Jo’s eyes snapped back up to his, and her cheeks burned red hot again. She laughed nervously and fanned herself with her hand. “Jesus Christ, it’s getting warm in here. How are you not sweating your balls off in that suit? Is that a Burberry?”

He buttoned his shirt and threw a tie around his neck. “What the fuck is a Burberry?”

“Oh, please,” Jo said, rolling her eyes. “You don’t just roll into a department store and pick a suit like this off the shelf.”

“If you’re done nagging, let’s go,” Rourke said finally.

 

Once they were clear of base camp, Rourke offered Jo his arm and they walked silently toward the heart of the village. The Día de Muertos celebrations were in full swing, and on their way into town, they passed by a large cemetery where families were gathered together at the elaborate _ofrendas_ set up for their deceased loved ones.

Just outside of the cemetery, they came upon a very young boy selling sparklers to honor the dead. Jo stopped. “I’m going to buy one of these for Mom.”

Rourke thought of his family back home as he stared at the firework burning in Jo’s hand. After much deliberation, he grabbed a few coins from his pocket and bought one himself.

Rourke watched as his sparkler slowly burned down to nothing and said, “I hadn’t seen my dad in almost a decade before he died. I didn’t even make it back home for the funeral. That is going to stick with me for the rest of my life.”

“That wasn’t your fault. They didn’t even notify you.”

 

Thomas “The General” Rourke had been a Senator as well as a decorated four-star General. As such, Jamie and his two older siblings had had a very strict upbringing and were groomed all their lives to follow the same path as their father. Jamie was never content with living in the man’s shadow, and he supposed that’s where the problems between them began.

Growing up, he was heavy into booze and sex and got into his share of trouble, and he had always been considered the fuck-up of the family. He dropped out of West Point in his first year but was briefly able to redeem himself when he was recruited into the elite Special Forces. Once he made the decision to leave the Army and join Trinity, though, his father was done with him, and he never looked back.

 

They entered a crowded courtyard lit with bright, colored lights, and the cheerful sounds of mariachi music echoed all around them. Rourke found a table near the band, and as he sat down, he wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. The sun had long set, but it was still hotter than deep-fried fuck.

“So,” Jo said. She was sitting directly across the table from Rourke and watched him as he leaned back lazily in his chair, watching the crowd bustle around them.

“So,” he said.

“How was Brazil?” Jo asked.

“Let’s not talk about work,” he said.

“Fine,” Jo said. She fidgeted nervously in her seat. “Let’s order dinner then.”

“I’m not hungry yet.”

Rourke lost his train of thought when a gorgeous Latina walked by their table in a short black dress. Rourke followed her with his eyes, and Jo kicked him under the table.

“What was that for?!” he cried.

“Do you make a habit of checking out other women while you’re on dates?”

“This isn’t a date!” Rourke said, defending himself. “Look at her, you can’t deny she’s hot.”

Jo turned around to get a look at the girl. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“Find out if she’s with somebody,” Rourke said hopefully.

“I am _not_ being your wingman.”

 _“Come on,”_ Rourke chided.

Jo frowned. “So you don’t want to talk, and you don’t want to eat. What _do_ you want to do?”

“You wanna dance?” he asked with a shrug.

“You hate dancing.”

“I know, but I thought I’d be nice and ask you anyway. What’s a date without dinner and dancing?”

Jo rolled her eyes again. “I thought you just said this wasn’t a date. And we haven’t had dinner.”

Rourke stood and buttoned his jacket. He held his hand out to her and said, “If you roll your eyes any harder you’re going to be able to see your brain.”

Jo grasped his hand and stood. His other hand came to rest on her narrow waist, and when he looked down at her, he found her staring right back at him with bright green eyes.

“This is nice,” Jo said.

“Yeah. It’s been a long time since I’ve danced with anyone,” Rourke admitted.

The band had started playing a slow _bachata_ rhythm, and Jo moved in closer, moving her hand up higher on Rourke’s shoulder.

Jo smiled as she stared up at Rourke. “I never knew you could be romantic.”

He scoffed. “It’s not one of my strong suits, trust me.”

“I think you’re doing just fine,” she said softly.

“Why do you feel so tense?”

“I’m not tense.”

“Bullshit.”

 

The truth was that the feeling of Rourke’s hands on her was taking a toll on her. She tried to just focus on the dance, but she couldn’t stop thinking about the night he’d come to Providence to bring her back. She’d done a really good job of blocking out the memory and pretending it didn’t happen—but there he was with his hands on her, and the memory was far from gone.

She couldn’t stop thinking about him, about the smell of his sandalwood shaving soap, his touch, his taste, how she’d woken the next morning naked in his bed. Ever since that night, she’d felt strange around him.

She was embarrassed, finally admitting to herself what had happened. She’d been in denial for weeks, trying to tell herself it didn’t happen. She would never sleep with her best friend of thirty years. But she did.

Maybe it was just the alcohol. Maybe they were both just lonely. Maybe it meant nothing. Maybe it just happened in the heat of the moment.

“Are you okay?” Rourke asked, interrupting her thoughts.

Jo shushed him. “Less talking, more dancing.”

They moved slowly until the tempo of the music increased. They quickened their pace and twirled across the courtyard, the colorful lights around them nothing but a blur as they focused their attention solely on each other. The following few minutes were lost in time, the two of them pushing and pulling against one another and hearts racing as one struggled to keep up with the other’s steps.

Rourke spun her around, and she gripped his hands, stopping to sway her hips with her back to his front. She whirled back around, placing her arms around his shoulders, unaware that he was utterly entranced by her movements. He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her to him and dipping her back. She tossed back her head, and her long hair fell away from her shoulders, revealing tanned skin kissed with a dew of perspiration. Her delicate clavicles and the tops of her breasts were on full display, and he was on _fire_.

Jo’s plump, pink lips were parted, and he wanted to kiss her. Goddamn it, he _needed_ to kiss her. _I just need you to look at me_ , he thought. _Tell me you want it too._ Jo nestled her head onto his shoulder, and he could feel the heat of her breath as she played with the hair at the nape of his neck.

His heart was pounding in his chest as she raised her head back up. She looked up at him with heavy-lidded eyes, and he went for it.

His breath hitched in his throat when his lips met hers. He pressed in further and clutched her by the small of her back, pulling her into him.

Jo shoved him away. “What the fuck, Rourke?!”

Rejection burned hot on his cheeks. He cleared his throat loudly. “I—I don’t know what that was.”

They stared at each other for a long moment before Jo grabbed him by the front of his jacket and pulled him back to her, thrusting her lips against his. They clutched at each other for several moments before Rourke pushed her back.

“What the fuck are you doing, Wilkens!” He was breathless, his chest heaving. He brushed his hair back and said, “We do _not_ need to keep doing that.”

Jo fanned herself. “No, you’re right. That would be stupid. Why complicate things?”

“Yeah,” Rourke said. “We have too good of a thing going here to fuck it up.”

Jo moved close again and slid her hand up his neck along the collar of his shirt. She kissed him softly. “Maybe this isn’t _so_ bad.”

“They say practice makes perfect,” Rourke muttered as he kissed her back. Jo’s hands slid up into his hair as she deepened the kiss, pressing her tongue into his mouth.

She tasted like sweet tequila as his hands moved south and gripped her ass. It always looked so good in camo, but, for fuck’s sake, he never expected it would _feel_ so damn good in his hands.

They were surrounded by people: couples dancing, kids playing in the courtyard. He didn’t care who saw them. He didn’t think he would give a single fuck if Croft herself walked into that courtyard; all he could think of was taking Jo back to his bunk and peeling that dress—.

Then his goddamn fucking phone rang.

He felt Jo flinch, and she pulled from his grasp.

Rourke let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding as he pulled his phone from the inside pocket of his jacket.

“Yeah, this is Rourke. This better be good,” he huffed.

_“We found it.”_

His expression immediately softened.

“I’m on my way,” he said quickly before jamming his finger onto the disconnect button.

“You’re leaving?” Jo asked with disappointment.

“I’ve been called back to the dig,” he said with a grin. “They’ve found the entrance to the temple.”

 

*                     *                     *

 

It was just before 1900 when Konstantin was relieved from guard duty for the day. His plan was to set off for town to do a little reconnaissance at La Casa Mexicana, where he knew without a doubt Lara and Jonah would be meeting. He hurried to his bunk and shed his uniform, opting instead for a black tee and khaki cargo pants. He laced his boots and threw on a pair of sunglasses for good measure.

When he arrived at the cafe, he chose a table in the corner of the balcony and positioned a menu card in the center of the table to hide his face. He didn’t know how long it would be before Lara and Jonah showed up, but he was eager to hear what Lara had come up with on the riddle. If anyone could figure it out, it would be Lara.

He heard heavy footsteps approaching and looked up to see Jonah coming onto the balcony with Lara right behind him. Konstantin ducked behind the menu card once more. They found a table, and Konstantin watched as Lara pulled out a notebook and a stack of photographs. She spread everything out on the table in front of her.

“Jonah, look!” She moved her chair closer and held a photograph in her hands. “The riddle . . . it’s directions! _To find the hidden city, go south along the shore until you find the pink fish. Then chase the heart of the serpent to the silver-crowned mountain._ Look at this! It’s the constellation Hydra, the serpent. This star is the heart. It sets in the southwest.”

Jonah looked at the photo for a long moment. “So, southwest of the Amazon river? Brazil?”

Lara shook her head. “Peru.”

“Peru?” he asked, furrowing his brow.

Konstantin too was confused. He was no expert in geography, but he was smart enough to know that something wasn’t adding up.

Lara pointed to another photograph. “This number looks like a Maya thirteen, but what if it’s really an eight? With precession, it—.”

“What?”

“Uh, precession. The Earth tilts, so over time, the stars appear in a different place on the horizon. Important if you are navigating by the night sky.”

“Okay?”

“In the Maya calendar, that’s a two thousand year difference! Back then, the heart of the serpent set directly to the west.”

“So that’s why it’s in Peru, not Brazil.” His face lit up. “Trinity’s been looking in the wrong place.”

“We need to look for the silver-crowned mountain in Peru.”

 

Konstantin couldn’t help but smile. He knew that she would figure out the clue. Her intelligence and drive never ceased to amaze him.

“There he is,” Jonah said suddenly.

Konstantin looked down to see Dr. Dominguez walk into the courtyard and sit down at a table not far from where Jo and Rourke had been sitting.

“Anything new on Dr. Dominguez?” Lara asked.

“Not much. He’s leading a few Trinity digs in the area.”

“My father mentioned him in his journals. More than once. He’s an expert in Pre-Colonial ruins.”

“Everyone says he’s a great guy. Big help to the town.”

It was then that Konstantin saw Rourke and Jo walk back across the courtyard at a rapid pace.

“ _Doctor! We found it!_ ” Rourke said urgently.

 _“Yes? Show me!”_ Dominguez cried. He immediately stood and tossed some coins onto the table.

 

“You heard that too, right?” Jonah asked.  
“Let’s see where he goes.”

“Wait. Trinity’s watching this place. Let’s try to blend in.”

Konstantin heard the sound of chairs sliding across the floor and craned his neck to see the two of them walking down the wooden stairway going down into the courtyard. He kept himself hidden until Lara and Jonah were out of sight, and then he snuck back toward camp.

 

*                     *                     *

 

Jo couldn’t help but notice that Rourke walked with a spring in his step as they retraced their steps through the courtyard into the cemetery and back toward the dig site. She herself felt excited, giddy almost, and not necessarily because they may have located the artifact; she had no interest in dusty old trinkets. He’d kissed her. _Rourke had actually kissed her._ And he was really a very good kisser, which came as no surprise to her. She was still trying to wrap her mind around it.

 

“Have you made contact with the High Council, Commander?” Dr. Dominguez asked.

“Yes, sir. Even after the fiasco in Brazil, no one questions your leadership of the organization.”

“Good. We’ve come too far to stop now.”

“Yes, sir. They’re ready for anything.”

They walked in silence for several moments before anyone spoke again.

“Someone set off a trap at the first site,” Rourke said. “They think it was Croft.”

Dominguez turned and glanced around at the people in the crowd.

“What’s wrong?” Rourke asked.

“I want confirmation, Commander. No more guessing.”

“I’ll make sure they get visual confirmation.”

 

Rourke’s phone rang suddenly. “Yeah, this is Commander Rourke.”

 _“Hey, Chief,”_ Winters said. _“Watch your six, okay? I just got word that Croft is tailing you and Dominguez.”_

Rourke glanced around, scanning the crowd. He’d hoped Dominguez had been seeing things, but now he wasn’t so sure.

“Dominguez wants confirmation Croft is here. You have the photo. Female. Caucasian. Early twenties. You got that?”

_“Yeah, boss.”_

“Good.”

Rourke disconnected the call and returned to where Dominguez and Jo were standing.

“Well?” Dominguez asked.

“They’ll find her.”

“Good. I don’t want anyone getting in there.”

 

Jo fidgeted as she listened to Rourke and Dominguez talk endlessly. She tried to catch Rourke’s eye to give him a silent order to hurry the fuck up, but he wouldn’t look at her. It wasn’t until they approached the farm market and Dominguez was distracted by a vendor selling produce that they finally found themselves alone.

Jo pulled Rourke into a narrow alley nearby and said, “Hey, I think I’m going to head back to camp.”

“Oh, come on,” Rourke pleaded, “I want you there when we find the Key.”

“I’ll be back at camp waiting to hear all about it, I promise. You know how I feel about crusty old tombs. I’d rather not be present this time when ancient, undead creatures wake up and slaughter everyone. Besides, this dress isn’t really fit for cave exploration, is it?”

“Does this suit look fit for cave exploration?”

Jo slipped her hand into Rourke’s jacket and touched his waist. She kissed him softly on the corner of his mouth and pulled her hand back, looking at the lining of his jacket. “I knew it was a Burberry.”

“I liked it, okay?” he said. “And you apparently did too the way you were eye-fucking me when I was getting dressed.”

Jo turned beet red. “Shut up.”

Rourke tenderly touched Jo’s jaw as he stole another kiss. “Stay,” he muttered.

Jo gave him a small smile and said, “I’ll see you later.”

They turned back to find Dominguez waiting behind them with an amused expression on his face.

“Who is waiting on who now?” Dominguez asked wryly.

“We should go,” Rourke said.

As they entered the gate to the dig site, Rourke picked up his radio and said, “This is Commander Rourke. I want the site secured ASAP. When Dr. Dominguez arrives, we all go in together. Operation Blackout has been initiated. None of the local workers leave the site alive. We’ve planned for this. Make sure the perimeter’s secure.”

As they neared the entrance to the temple, Rourke could feel his anticipation growing. He walked with Dominguez and a few armed grunts toward the black wrought iron gate that sealed off the passage leading to the temple. He was nervous; Croft was there, somewhere, waiting to show her face.

 

*                     *                     *

 

Jo looked up at the sky as she was walking back to camp. The sky had rather quickly turned dark and menacing and threatened to open up at any moment. She quickened her pace when she felt the first cold raindrop hit her bare shoulder.

She was almost back to her bunk when she first felt the ground vibrating beneath her feet. She stopped walking and glanced around looking for the source of the vibrations.

 _Just my brain playing tricks on me_ , she thought to herself.

Jo passed by the campfire and found Konstantin chilling there again. She sat down beside him.

Konstantin stared at her and said, “You look . . . _really nice_.”

Jo smiled sheepishly and said, “Thank you, Konstantin. You know, in the six years I’ve known you, that’s the closest you’ve come to a compliment?”

“Don’t get used to it. You feel that earthquake just now?”

Jo stared at the fire as the words registered in her brain. “Earthquake?”

“Yeah, you didn’t feel that? Hope it doesn’t bring in a tsunami.”

Jo’s stomach leapt up into her chest.

  _“_ _Dominguez says that when the dagger is removed, the Cleansing will begin with a tsunami.”_

Rourke had assured her that if Trinity found the Key, the town would be evacuated, which meant that Croft must have gotten to it first. If Dominguez was right, the tsunami was well on its way.

“K,” Jo said cautiously, “I don’t want to sound melodramatic, but I think we need to get our people and get the hell out of dodge while we still can.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked cautiously.

“Just trust me,” Jo said.

 

*                     *                     *

 

Rourke could hear the echoes of gunfire in the distance. Croft had finally shown herself. He prayed that his teams were prepared for a fight. Croft had done far too much damage over the past year, and Trinity could not take another mass casualty.

His radio crackled. _“Visual confirmed—it’s Croft. Engage!”_

Rourke’s grip on his rifle tightened. It was only a matter of time before the gunshots would be reported to the authorities and he would find himself with another big fucking problem to deal with. The only blessing was that since Trinity had been a fixture in Cozumel for almost two decades, Dominguez had the town’s leaders in the palm of his hand, and they tended to look the other way for the right price.

He couldn’t help but wonder if Croft had somehow been tipped off. It was too much of a coincidence that she would show up on the very night they found the entrance to the temple after they’d been digging there with no luck for so many years.

He heard a sharp cry up ahead as they rounded the corner with the gate in sight. Croft fell to her knees, and Rourke saw something clatter to the ground beside her.

“Stop! Don’t hurt her,” Dominguez ordered as he walked slowly closer.

 _“Lara Croft,”_ he said. He approached her slowly, offering her his hand. She ignored his gesture and pulled herself to her feet.

“This isn’t the way I’d hoped we’d meet. You know, I’ve been interested in your work.”

“Trinity always is.”

The solider who took her out handed Dominguez the object that she had dropped. The archeologist turned it over in his hands and laughed softly. “ _The Key of Chak Chel._ I have sacrificed my life for _this_. Where is the silver box of Ix Chel? Give it to me.”

Lara screwed her face up into an arrogant smirk. “It’s in a safe place.”

Rourke clenched his jaw. He had half a mind to disobey his orders and put a bullet in her brain right then and there. It would be so easy, and all their problems would disappear.

“You don’t have it?!” Dominguez asked with disbelief. He turned to Rourke, motioning for him to come closer. _“Get the helicopter. The tsunami is coming,”_ he whispered.

 

*                     *                     *

 

Konstantin shielded his eyes from the pouring rain. “I think we’ve got everybody!” he shouted.

Jo grabbed her phone and frantically dialed Rourke’s number, but it wouldn’t even ring. He must have already entered the temple and gone out of range.

“Goddamit!” she shouted. “Konstantin, get to higher ground with the rest of the guys. I have find Rourke!”

Konstantin reached for her, trying to grab her by the wrist. “Are you crazy?!”

Jo ignored him and pulled from his grip. She took off running back toward the dig.

 

It was when she spotted the black wrought iron gate leading to the the temple that she became aware of a low roaring sound. She turned back just in time to see a wall of water come rolling across the courtyard, sweeping away everything in its path. The wave knocked her off her feet, and she was forced beneath the water. She fought to surface as she was swept along with the debris. She could hear screams in the distance and the twisting and creaking sound of buildings and structures being pried from their foundations by the fast-moving water.

Jo blindly grabbed at everything she could reach, struggling to keep her head above the water. She slammed face-first into a metal pole, knocking the air out of her lungs and very probably breaking several of her ribs. She clung to the pole and tried to pull herself upward, but the force of the water was too great. Her hands slipped, and she lost her grip. Once again, she found herself at the mercy of the wave.

She thought she heard a voice above the rushing in her ears.

 _“_ _¡_ _Agarra mi mano!_ Take my hand!”

Jo saw a man leaning down over the edge of a bridge ahead. She forced her arms up out of the water and grabbed onto his hand as she was swept toward the bridge. She felt herself being hoisted up out of the tumult.

“ _¡_ _Muchas gracias!_ _¡_ _Gracias a Dios!_ Thank you so much! Thank God!” Jo cried. She fell onto her hands and knees and coughed up water, her cracked ribs making her every movement excruciatingly painful.

When she finally stood, the man who had helped her to safety was tending to several other people who had been saved from the water. Jo approached him.

 _“Soy m_ _é_ _dica._ I’m a doctor, _”_ she said. _“_ _¿_ _Le puede ayudar?_ Can I help you?”

 

*                     *                     *

 

Rourke and Dominguez stared down at the chaos beneath them from the safety of the chopper.

“We didn’t have a chance to evacuate _anyone_ ,” Rourke said with grief in his voice. “The villagers, our people, _no one_ saw it coming.”

Dominguez stood and excitedly pointed out the window. “Look, there!”

Rourke glanced out and saw a large group of men gathered at the top of a high building out of the reach of the water.

He grabbed his phone and hastily dialed Winters’ number.

_“Yeah, Chief.”_

“Thank god, Winters,” Rourke said.

_“Your girlfiend saved our asses,” Winters said. “She and Miller were running around all over camp screaming about a tsunami. I think most of our guys got out okay.”_

“Where is she?”

_“She isn’t with you?”_

“No.”

_“Last I heard, she took off looking for you.”_

Panic struck Rourke like a knife to the gut. He hung up the phone without another word.

“Circle back around!” Rourke shotued to the pilot.

“What are you doing?” Dominguez asked.

“I have to find Jo.”

“Commander,” the older man said, “it’s too dangerous.”

“I can’t leave her behind,” Rourke said firmly.

He glued himself to the window, scanning the water below for any sign of Jo’s bright red dress. He cursed her for trying to go after him, but he knew if he’d been in her place, he would’ve done the same.

They flew over a bridge, and he caught a flash of red.

“Go back!” he shouted. The chopper turned around, and he saw her. She was kneeling beside the body of a man.

“Put us down on the bridge!” Rourke ordered.

The pilot lowered the chopper down toward the bridge, and Rourke leaned out, holding his hand out to her.

“Jo, come on!” he shouted over the sound of the blades.

Jo turned around. “I can’t leave! These people need help!”

“C’mon, Jo!” he shouted impatiently. “I’m not leaving you here!”

Jo ran toward the chopper and grasped his hand. He pulled her up into the craft, his arms closing around her and pulling her to safety. She lingered a moment with her head on his chest.

“Are you hurt?” he called. He noticed that her face and chest were scraped and her dress was ripped. He could feel her shaking against him.

“I’m fine!” she yelled.

Rourke grabbed a blanket from the emergency kit and wrapped it tightly around her.

“I thought you had evacuation plans in place!” Jo said.

“We did,” Rourke said. “But Croft beat us to the Key. We didn’t have a chance.”

Jo stared out the window at the water rushing over the village and said, “So what now? We just have to find the Box, right?”

Dominguez scoffed loudly. “Dr. Wilkens, by taking the Key, Croft has set the apocalypse in motion. The _apocalypse_. _The death of the sun._ You don’t realize the tragedy she has unleashed!” Dominguez said. He looked out the window, down at the destruction beneath them, cradling the ornate dagger in his hands. “The Cleansing has begun. It falls to me now to stop it before it consumes us all.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The freaking amazing fan art of Rourke and Jo was done by the lovely eintausendschoen. <3
> 
> This chapter has taken me so long to perfect. This part was the first scene I ever wrote for this story, and I have been waiting very impatiently to unleash it. As I have written the previous chapters and plotted out how the rest of the story will go, this chapter has grown and grown until suddenly I realized it was almost 9,000 words--my personal record!
> 
> These two videos put me in the mood to write the dance scene.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BuWyi4lSHsw & https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F84hiNctVfM
> 
> I don’t see Rourke and Jo being the type of people who would be experienced in Latin dance, but I found these videos to be very sensual and thought they fit the mood I was trying to create.... I hope y'all enjoy "Jourke" as much as I do. :D


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